“Not only has he deserted her, my dear nephew, but he has had the audacity to leave her to my care”—he struck himself on the breast—“to my care—an old man who has toiled for him through a long and cheerless life, and who might, but for the ingratitude of him and others, have been something of a figure in the world. But he has reckoned, sir, without knowing what I really am.”
“What do you mean?” asked Comethup slowly.
“I mean, my dear nephew, that that is a game at which two can play. Does he think that a man of my position is to be left to starve with a mere chit of a girl? No, sir; he took this responsibility upon himself, and it has nothing to do with me. I absolutely refuse to accept it.”
Comethup took him suddenly by the shoulders and looked steadily into his eyes; Mr. Robert Carlaw’s eyes shifted a little before the steady gaze of the other. “Do you mean to say that you’re going to desert her too, eh?” asked Comethup.
“My dear nephew, there’s no question of desertion——”
“Answer me, yes or no. I didn’t want to talk about it, but you may perhaps remember that you’ve depended upon me for some years past. Leave her now, and, as surely as there’s a God above us, I’ll leave you to starve! Now, how’s it to be?”
“But, my dear nephew, think of the position.”
“My dear uncle, I have thought of the position. When did Brian go, and where has he gone?”
“I believe he has gone to Paris, and, as generally happens in such cases, there’s a woman in the matter.”