“My brother’s faults towards you, and towards his family, are not such faults as mine, Sir,” I began. “I have not imitated his vices; I have acted as he would not have acted. And yet, the result of my error will appear far more humiliating, and even disgraceful, in your eyes, than the results of any errors of Ralph’s.”
As I pronounced the word “disgraceful,” he suddenly looked me full in the face. His eyes lightened up sternly, and the warning red spot rose on his pale cheeks.
“What do you mean by ‘disgraceful?’” he asked abruptly; “what do you mean by associating such a word as disgrace with your conduct—with the conduct of a son of mine?”
“I must reply to your question indirectly, Sir,” I continued. “You asked me last night who the Mr. Sherwin was who has called here so often—”
“And this morning I ask it again. I have other questions to put to you, besides—you called constantly on a woman’s name in your delirium. But I will repeat last night’s question first—who is Mr. Sherwin?”
“He lives—”
“I don’t ask where he lives. Who is he? What is he?”
“Mr. Sherwin is a linen-draper—”
“You owe him money?—you have borrowed money of him? Why did you not tell me this before? You have degraded my house by letting a man call at the door—I know it!—in the character of a dun. He has inquired about you as his ‘friend,’—the servants told me of it. This money-lending tradesman, your ‘friend!’ If I had heard that the poorest labourer on my land called you ‘friend,’ I should have held you honoured by the attachment and gratitude of an honest man. When I hear that name given to you by a tradesman and money-lender, I hold you contaminated by connection with a cheat. You were right, Sir!—this is disgrace; how much do you owe? Where are your dishonoured acceptances? Where have you used my name and my credit? Tell me at once—I insist on it!”
He spoke rapidly and contemptuously, and rising from his chair as he ended, walked impatiently up and down the room.