196 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 
horrid weather, I suppose. T thought I’d try 
to catch you, Timothy, before you left for 
the City, though when I saw the locality you 
were living in I almost wished I had gone to 
your office.” 
“ The locality doesn’t worry me much,” 
said Timothy, quietly. 
“ That’s the worst of it,” was her prompt 
retort. She laughed, forcedly, perhaps. “ It’s 
really dreadful to have a wealthy brother 
who pigs it in this fashion. I must look around 
and find you decent rooms, my dear.” 
“ Thank you, Mirabel. But — I’m not the 
rich man you persist in taking me to be.” 
“ Rubbish ! ” she said, lightly. “ And it’s 
rather mean of you to begin to talk like that 
just when I was going to ask a small favour 
of you, Timothy.” 
Something within the man winced. He 
preferred a direct request to a playful hint, 
but the latter was his sister’s way, and he 
ought to have been used to it by now. 
“ What can 1 do for you, Mirabel ? ” he 
asked, knowing what the answer would be. 
“ Now, please don’t look like an old bear 
with a sore head ! Y our poor sister only w r ants 
a little loan. Harold says things are rather 
tight just now, whatever that means, but 
there’s a good time coming, and then you’ll 
get back all you’ve lent us. Harold would have 
come to see you himself, only he’s so sensi- 
tive, poor man. You know how sensitive he 
is, Timothy.” 
In the past Timothy had known Harold as 
a good-looking young giant with a blonde 
moustache and a high colour, a fund of con- 
versation on sporting matters, and a generous 
habit of offering the merest acquaintances 
cigars and whiskies and sodas ; but somehow 
he. had not observed his sensitiveness. 
“ And I’m quite sure this is the last time I 
shall ever bother you,” Mirabel added, by 
way of encouragement. 
Now was Timothy’s time to remind his 
sister that for years she and her husband 
had been draining his resources to the tune 
of at least three hundred pounds per annum ; 
to suggest that she and her husband ought 
to cut their extravagance and live within 
their income, which was by no means a 
beggarly one ; and to inform her that she was 
not the only member of the Wells family who 
had consistently borrowed from him ever 
since he had had any money to lend. But 
Timothy did none of these things. He had 
been “ soft ” too long. 
“ How much do you and Harold require ? ” 
he said, without keeping her in suspense. 
It was on Mirabel’s tongue to say “ Forty,” 
but the word that left her lips was “ Fifty ” ; 
and then, seeing how little moved he was,’ she 
wished she had said “ A hundred.” 
“ Very well,” he replied, suppressing a 
sigh, “ I’ll send you a cheque when I get to 
the office. But please let this be the last, 
Mirabel.” 
She was used to the phrase. “ Rather ! ” 
she said, and, getting up, crossed the hearth- 
rug and kissed him on the forehead. “ You’re 
a dear, good brother, and I’m fearfully obliged 
to you.” 
“ That’s all right,” he returned, smiling 
faintly. “ I’m glad I can do it — this 
time.” 
He saw her to her cab, and then returned 
to the parlour to don his boots. 
After all, Mirabel tried him less than her 
sisters. 
It must not be supposed, however, that his 
brothers-in-law always left these interviews 
to their wives. They took their turns, and 
Timothy “ forked out ” just the same. The 
years passed, and it never seemed to occur to 
the bachelor that a refusal might be good for 
every one concerned, that his help would 
gradually come to be taken for granted, 
that his weakness was simply making parasites 
of his relations. Nor did the borrowers reflect 
that their importunacy might carry them 
too far. With a few signs of real and grateful 
affection, and a little less superior criticism 
of his shabby mode of living, Timothy’s 
eyes might have been kept blind to the end 
of the chapter ; but people are apt to become 
careless under repeated obligations, and his 
relations had at last allowed Timothy to 
gain an inkling of their utter selfishness. 
He had begun to perceive, dimly, it is true, 
the many sweet and lovely things he had 
missed, the opportunities he had sacrificed, 
the future he had mortgaged, if not lost 
altogether. And Mirabel’s latest visit irritated 
as much as it depressed him. 
Yet could he ever find the will to say 
“ No ” to his sisters ? The question occurred 
to him on his way to the City. Suppose — 
it was most unlikely, of course — but still, 
suppose that some day he should think of 
marrying ? 
II. 
“ A lady waiting to see you, sir,” a clerk 
announced to Timothy on his arrival, and 
Timothy’s feebly-rising spirits sank back to 
zero. “ This is her card.” 
Timothy’s spirits rebounded, then wobbled 
at the higher level, for the name on the card — 
“ Miss Florence Gale” (there was no address) 
