“May I look at the list?” asked Miss Huntingdon, when their visitor had expressed his thanks to her brother. Having glanced at it, she also signified her willingness to be a helper in the work, and gave the list to Walter to return to the gentleman.
As her nephew was giving back the subscription list, he paused for a moment to run his eye over the names of the contributors. “Ah!” he said, “I see your own sons down, Mr Johnson, for a guinea a piece. I wish I could afford to follow their example.”
“Perhaps, after all, you can,” said the gentleman, smiling. “I am sure it does young people good to practise a little self-denial in helping on a good cause like this.”
“I don’t doubt that, sir,” replied Walter, “but I am ashamed to say that self-denial of that sort is not much in my line. But, then, I am not a man of independent fortune like my brother Amos here. Ask him, pray. He has, or ought to have, lots of spare cash, and he is always on the look-out to be doing good with it.” There was a tone of sarcasm in his voice which grated very painfully on Miss Huntingdon’s ear. Amos coloured deeply, but made no remark.
“What say you, my young friend?” asked Mr Johnson, in a kindly voice, turning to him. “Your brother encourages me to hope that we may add your name to the list.”
The young man, thus appealed to, looked uneasy and embarrassed, and then, in a few moments, said in an undertone, “I am sorry that just now I am not in a position to add my name, but I shall be glad to do so when I am better able.”
Mr Johnson did not press the matter, but shortly left, having first partaken of a little fruit which had been brought to him by the butler while the conversation about the subscriptions had been going on.
It has already been said that the old man Harry was a privileged servant of long standing, almost a portion of the estate, so that he was allowed little liberties which would not ordinarily have been permitted to one in his place. He had listened with burning cheeks and flashing eyes to Walter’s sneering remarks about his brother’s wealth, and now lingered near the group, as he was removing a little table on which he had placed the fruit for Mr Johnson. There was a restlessness about his manner which Miss Huntingdon noticed and wondered at; but her attention was then drawn to Walter, who, lounging against a bench, said in a rather drawling voice, “I really wonder what some people do with their money. For my part, I don’t see what’s the use of it except to be jolly with it yourself, and to make other people jolly with it.—Amos,” he added abruptly, “what’s up with you that you’ve become so very poor all of a sudden?”
To this Amos made no reply, but turned away to hide his vexation.
“My boy,” said Mr Huntingdon, addressing his elder son, “I’m a little surprised myself that you should be at all hard up. I quite expected that you would have followed the example of Mr Johnson’s sons, and have put down your name. I think you could have afforded it.”