Yes, it was her brother,—the great incubus on Dr. Brabazon's life. In spite of all that had been done to reclaim him; in defiance of education, position, training, Tom Brabazon had turned out a black sheep amidst the doctor's white flock. Dr. Brabazon had paid and paid until he could pay no more; Emma Brabazon never awoke to morning light but a dread crossed her mind of what trouble in regard to him the day might bring forth. It was not only debt; he had done worse things than spend; he had been in prison for three months, and worn the felon's dress, and had his hair cut close; he had been forbidden his father's house; he dared not show himself there or elsewhere in the broad light of day. Mrs. Butter, faithful to the family, knew about it, and she said a word or two of explanation to Mr. Henry as he sat on the other side of her fireplace, while the brother and sister were in his parlour.
"He wants to stay here," she resentfully cried, giving her fire a fierce stir, as if she were stirring up the delinquent. "He is obliged to be in hiding again; and he avows it with all the brass in the world. I'd not have gone to Miss Emma with my own will, but he made me. Ah! the aching heart that she and my poor master have had with him, that ill-doing Tom!"
Emma came in, her eyes inflamed. "You must let him be in that upper room for a day or two; there's no help for it," she said to Mrs. Butter. "And he must have a bit of supper to-night. I'm going back now, or papa may find out my absence. Of course—you know—his being here must be kept a secret."
"I know, Miss Emma," was the wrathful answer; made doubly wrathful because the gentleman had entered. "He up and told me that the first thing."
"Hold your tongue, Mother Butter," cried Tom Brabazon, laughing as if he had not a care in life. "You have been in scrapes yourself before this, I'll lay. Mind you make me a plum-pudding to-morrow; I've not tasted a piece of one yet. Perhaps you'll introduce this gentleman to me, Emma."
And she obeyed mechanically. In the blow the night had brought, she felt utterly bewildered. "My unfortunate brother, Thomas Brabazon; Mr. Henry."
Mr. Henry acknowledged the introduction slightly; and took up his hat to walk home with Miss Brabazon. She begged him not to take the trouble, but he quietly insisted, and they went out together.
"Is this the same that you have seen near the college?" she asked, as they went along.
"It is."
"Ah, yes; I only inquired to see if you remembered him. He denies, most positively, having entered the study that night; and when I spoke of the pencil, he apparently did not know what I meant. He had written a letter to papa, asking for some trifling temporary assistance, intending to send it in and wait for the answer. But he saw the front sitting-rooms were in darkness, and went round, fearing we were out, to see if the back ones were. That is what he says. We were out, you know, as the want of light showed him, and he returned to London, and was arrested before he could come again. When I mentioned the pencil, he asked whether I thought he had become worse than a common thief to touch that. I don't think he took it."