“Family pictures! There is Hope—not half pretty enough, though. That was your father, I suppose. So clever, wasn’t he! By the way, how is that young brother of yours getting on?”
If a thunderbolt had fallen through the roof, the occupants of the room could hardly have been more startled than by this simple question. This was Miss Caldecott’s first visit to the flat; Barney’s name had never been mentioned in her presence; how, then, did she come to know of his existence? The shadow which had been pushed aside for a few minutes now returned more heavily than ever, and the pale, tense faces of the four girls startled the innocent questioner.
“What is the matter? What have I said? Nothing to worry you, have I?”
“We are in trouble about our brother, Miss Caldecott. He has—disappeared,” said Philippa, resting both hands on the back of a chair to hide their trembling. “Do you mind telling us how you came to know him?”
“But I don’t know him; only heard his name casually from a friend. Handsome boy, isn’t he?—musical—sings comic songs and dances break-downs—up to all sorts of fun?”
“Yes, yes!” cried the sisters in concert, and the Hermit drew near, forgetting his embarrassment in his anxiety to hear what might be told. The five pairs of eyes were fixed hungrily on the silly, pretty face, and even as they looked they saw it change, soften into sympathy, and grow sweet and earnest and womanly.
“And he has run away, has he? And you are sitting at home waiting for him, and breaking your hearts. Poor little girls! Wouldn’t it be lovely if I helped you to find him, after all? Now, I’ll tell you all I know. I had some friends in the other night, and one of the men was turning over my songs and found ‘The Song of Sleep.’ We laughed about it a good deal, for I told him it was half my own composition. He noticed the name—Hope Charrington—and said he knew a young fellow of that name; who was one of the most amusing boys he had ever met, and could sing a rattling comic song. He is musical, this man I am speaking of, and is fond of having little singsongs at his rooms. I asked one or two questions, found out that it must be your brother, and told Jim I would warn you that he was not a fit companion for a lad. Oh, I was only in fun; there’s no real harm in Jim, but he is in rather a fast, betting set, and I have a young brother of my own. I know how I should feel about it I determined to give you a hint next time we met, and I did remember, didn’t I? I am so glad I didn’t forget!”
The look of elation which accompanied the last words brought a smile to Hope’s face. She had reason to know Miss Caldecott’s powers of forgetting, and it argued a wonderful amount of interest that she should have, remembered Barney in the midst of the exciting preparations for her benefit concert. She slipped her hand through the plump arm and pressed it gently, while Philippa asked half-a-dozen breathless questions.
“How long ago was that? Have you heard nothing since? Where had he met Barney? Is he in an insurance office?”
“Insurance? No, that is not it. He has quite a good berth somewhere—shipping office, I think. Their ships go out to the Cape.”