Comethup, sitting in solemn state with his aunt in a great box which would comfortably have held six, could not quite get rid of that guilty feeling he had of having deceived her. It was certainly the first time, but, despite the difference in their ages and dispositions, and despite the relationship existing between them, they had hitherto been in all things friends; there was a fine comradeship between the old woman and the boy—a comradeship which had demanded complete confidence on his part and equal trust on hers. Having nothing to conceal, his life had been like an open book to her, and she had read the book eagerly and with satisfaction. Now, for the first time, it had become necessary that he should deceive her; that, however justly, he should use her money for a purpose of which she would not have approved.
On the other hand, he thought with very genuine sympathy and affection of Brian, the boy who seemed destined to make so much more of life than Comethup could hope to do; who was in every sense, he thought, made of better and finer stuff. He remembered how he had said that fifty pounds would keep him beyond the reach of want for a year in London, and trembled a little to think how small a sum fifty pounds really meant; he found himself doing disturbing sums in division in his head, and figuring out how much lay between Brian and starvation every week.
In an interval between the acts, when the lights were turned fully on in the theatre, he leaned out over the edge of the box and carelessly looked at the people below. Not a few glasses were levelled at him, and not a few whispers went round concerning the identity of the handsome boy who sat in the big box with the old woman with the closed eyes. Gazing beneath him at the rows of stalls, he suddenly caught his breath and drew back; then leaned over again in some amazement. Beneath him, seated beside a lady in evening dress, was Brian Carlaw.
Comethup’s exclamation had not been unnoticed by his aunt. “Some one you know?” she inquired.
“I—I’m not quite sure,” said Comethup. “I think I’ll go round and see, if you don’t mind.”
“By all means,” said Miss Carlaw. “If it’s anybody nice, bring ’em here; if you think they’ll bore me, don’t.”
Comethup made his way down to the stalls, and came face to face with Brian, who was coming out. Brian looked confused for a moment, and then extended his hand. “My dear old boy, this is delightful. Twice in one day; there’s a fate in it. I dare say you’re surprised to see me here; but, as a matter of fact, it’s a piece of speculation. There’s a woman”—he jerked his head to indicate the lady whose side he had quitted—“who’s very good fun, and very useful. She’s taken rather a fancy to this budding versifier, and I think it’s probable that she may be able to do something for me. At all events, she’s a useful person to know. So you see, as it’s no use hoping to do anything in this world without taking risks, your money enabled me to secure a couple of stalls to-night; to bring her down here in style—in a word, to make a good impression. My dear boy, it’ll pay; depend upon it, it’ll pay well. I told you this morning that I was learning the trick of the whole business; it’s as easy as winking when you know it, and I think it’ll carry me through anything. You may sit and write and starve in your garret forever, and do not a ha’porth of good; you’ve got to come out of your garret and cut a good figure if people are to believe you. I’m beginning to like the game; I am, indeed. Come and have a cigarette.”
Comethup hastily declined, murmured something about how glad he was to see Brian again, and went back to his aunt’s box. He hoped, and indeed believed, that it was all right; but a little curious feeling of doubt in regard to Brian came into his mind, and would not be dispelled. He watched his cousin and the lady who was with him during the evening; noticed that Brian sat very close to her and whispered; observed that she talked in loud tones and laughed somewhat immoderately, and made considerable play with a huge feather fan. He had, too, to begin a new calculation in regard to the money with which he had supplied Brian; found it necessary to deduct from it the price of two stalls and an approximate amount for cabs, and then to redivide the sum remaining by fifty-two; Brian’s income for a year looked meagre indeed. Miss Charlotte Carlaw made inquiries concerning his friend, but Comethup put her off with an evasive reply.
On the following day the final arrangements were made, and they started for the Continent. Miss Charlotte Carlaw had carried the whole matter through with such energy, and in so short a space of time, that there had been no time to inform the captain, but Comethup wrote him a long letter from Paris, on the first day of their arrival there, breaking to him, as gently as possible, the intelligence that they would not be likely to meet for at least three years. The boy thought sometimes, in those early days, that he would have been glad to get back again to the old-fashioned town in which he had been born, and to narrow down his world—which had widened so much recently, and was widening every day—to the captain and ’Linda and the few others who had known and loved him as a child. But he blamed himself the next instant for his ingratitude.