“Money—­yes.  They have got money, and they are so stupid you may take it from under their eyes.  They will not see you.  But of their own hearts they will give you nothing.  You see that black building—­the workhouse.  I call it Little England.  It is just the same.  The naked, hungry, poor wretches lie at the door, and the great fat beadles swell about like turkey-cocks inside.”

“You have been here long enough to know, at any rate.”

“Yes, I have been here long—­too long.  I have made my life a wilderness, staying here in this country of barracks.  And what have I got for it?  I came back because of that woman, and she has thrown me over.  That is your fault—­yours—­yours!”

“And you have sent for me to tell me that again?”

“No, Edouard.  I sent for you that you might see your sister once more—­that I might once more see my brother.”  This she said leaning forward on the table, on which her arms rested, and looking steadfastly into his face with eyes moist—­just moist, with a tear in each.  Whether Edouard was too unfeeling to be moved by this show of affection, or whether he gave more credit to his sister’s histrionic powers than to those of her heart, I will not say, but he was altogether irresponsive to her appeal.  “You will be back again before long,” he said.

“Never!  I will come back to this accursed country never again.  No, I am going once and for all.  I will soil myself with the mud of its gutters no more.  I came for the sake of Julie; and now—­how has she treated me?” Edouard shrugged his shoulders.  “And you—­how has she treated you?”

“Never mind me.”

“Ah! but I must mind you.  Only that you would not let me manage, it might be yours now—­yes, all.  Why did you come down to that accursed island?”

“It was my way to play my game.  Leave that alone, Sophie.”  And there came a frown over the brother’s brow.

“Your way to play your game!  Yes; and what has become of mine?  You have destroyed mine, but you think nothing of that.  After all that I have gone through, to have nothing; and through you—­my brother!  Ah! that is the hardest of all—­when I was putting all things in train for you.”

“You are always putting things in train.  Leave your trains alone, where I am concerned.”

“But why did you come to that place in the accursed island?  I am ruined by that journey.  Yes, I am ruined.  You will not help me to get a shilling from her—­not even for my expenses.”

“Certainly not.  You are clever enough to do your own work without my aid.”

“And is that all from a brother?  Well!  And, now that they have drowned themselves—­the two Claverings—­the fool and the brute, and she can do what she pleases—­”

“She could always do as she pleased since Lord Ongar died.”