CHAPTER XXI.

Mr. Scarborough’s thoughts of himself.

When Mr. Scarborough was left alone he did not go to sleep, as he had pretended, but lay there for an hour, thinking of his position and indulging to the full the feelings of anger which he now entertained toward his second son.  He had never, in truth, loved Augustus.  Augustus was very like his father in his capacity for organizing deceit, for plotting, and so contriving that his own will should be in opposition to the wills of all those around him.  But they were thoroughly unlike in the object to be attained.  Mr. Scarborough was not a selfish man.  Augustus was selfish and nothing else.  Mr. Scarborough hated the law,—­because it was the law and endeavored to put a restraint upon him and others.  Augustus liked the law,—­unless when in particular points it interfered with his own actions.  Mr. Scarborough thought that he could do better than the law.  Augustus wished to do worse.  Mr. Scarborough never blushed at what he himself attempted, unless he failed, which was not often the case.  But he was constantly driven to blush for his son.  Augustus blushed for nothing and for nobody.  When Mr. Scarborough had declared to the attorney that just praise was due to Augustus for the nobility of the sacrifice he was making, Augustus had understood his father accurately and determined to be revenged, not because of the expression of his father’s thoughts, but because he had so expressed himself before the attorney.  Mr. Scarborough also thought that he was entitled to his revenge.

When he had been left alone for an hour he rung the bell, which was close at his side, and called for Mr. Merton.  “Where is Mr. Grey?”

“I think he has ordered the wagonette to take him to the station.”

“And where is Augustus?”

“I do not know.”

“And Mr. Jones?  I suppose they have not gone to the station.  Just feel my pulse, Merton.  I am afraid I am very weak.”  Mr. Merton felt his pulse and shook his head.  “There isn’t a pulse, so to speak.”

“Oh yes; but it is irregular.  If you will exert yourself so violently—­”

“That is all very well; but a man has to exert himself sometimes, let the penalty be what it may.  When do you think that Sir William will have to come again?” Sir William, when he came, would come with his knife, and his advent was always to be feared.

“It depends very much on yourself, Mr. Scarborough.  I don’t think he can come very often, but you can make the distances long or short.  You should attend to no business.”

“That is absolute rubbish.”

“Nevertheless, it is my duty to say so.  Whatever arrangements may be required, they should be made by others.  Of course, if you do as you have done this morning, I can suggest some little relief.  I can give you tonics and increase the amount; but I cannot resist the evil which you yourself do yourself.”