"Good-bye, Giovannino, good-bye!"
IV.
The nameless piece was a brilliant success. The critics said the pathos was wonderful. Both performers seemed to have but one soul between them, as in truth they really had. Lord Alison sat like one petrified as the music ebbed and flowed, but only Giovanni noted that he did not join in the applause that followed. It cut him to the quick, this negligence; and when the guests clamoured for an encore he selected a different piece, greatly to their disgust.
After all the company had gone and that curious dreariness that invariably invades the scene of a recent merry-making spread through the rooms, Lord Alison, pale to the very lips, called Giovanni into the study.
"Take a cigar, boy, and settle yourself to hear a story," he said, as he closed the door.
Giovanni obeyed, and sank into the corner of the very sofa he had occupied the first time he entered the house.
After a pause the elder man told a strange tale that was also a confession. He told how his brother Jack, his big brother Jack, the poet and musician, had vanished in Italy long years before. Rumour said he had married a singer whose beauty had captivated him, and that he feared to return lest his uncle, Lord Alison, should disinherit him. As time went on, Arthur was recognised as the next-of-kin, and on succeeding to his father's property had quitted Scotch law and come to London, where he soon found the gay life of an heir-presumptive to a great title indispensable to his happiness. Now and then the dread of his brother's return painted black spots on his sun, but he strove to erase them, and generally succeeded.
Then came the strange evening when he played his brother's composition, a relic of college days, and was answered from outside by an unseen player. From the first he had no doubt who the child was; and the packet given him by the dying woman confirmed his suspicion, as well as the worn little dressing-case which he remembered perfectly. He resolved to reveal all when Giovanni should come of age, but the fair face of Hester Trenoweth came between them. Then, when the dread of the missing document was removed, he persuaded himself to sacrifice conscience to passion. His resolution was increased ten-fold by the knowledge that Lady Hester loved Giovanni. Arthur's keen eye had detected her secret. He almost hated them both when the truth became plain to him. "Boy," he exclaimed, at length, "I've foully wronged you; but Jack's dead voice spoke again to-night in his melody. It led you to me, it made me resolve to shelter you (perchance it helped to rob me of her); but to-night it preached repentance. Take Hester and be happy. I can claim a younger brother's portion, and I have my profession to return to, though a selfish life has blunted that weapon I fear. Boy, say you don't hate me!"
Giovanni's warm Italian blood drove him to a demonstration impossible to an Englishman.
