’Wait a moment, Mrs. Maberley, please.  I am deeply interested; but would Gladys—­would Miss Hamilton like me to know all this?’

’To be sure she would,—­though perhaps she would not care for the pain of telling it herself; but it would be better for you to hear it from me than from Mrs. Barton, or Mrs. Drabble, or any other gossiping person that takes it into her head to tell you, for you could not be much longer at Heathfield without hearing of it, when, as I say, every Jack and Tom in the village knows it,—­though how it all got about is more than I can say.  I tell the colonel, Leah must have had a hand in it:  I know it was she who told Tracy.’

I saw by this time that Mrs. Maberley had quite made up her mind to tell me the story herself; she was garrulous, like many other old ladies, and perhaps she enjoyed a little gossip about her neighbours, so I only essayed one other feeble protest.

‘I hope Mr. Hamilton will not mind—­’ but she answered me quite briskly,—­

’Well, poor fellow, he knows by this time people will talk; I daresay he thinks Mr. Cunliffe has told you.  Now, I do not want to blame Mr. Hamilton; he is a great favourite of mine ever since he cured the colonel’s gout, and I would not be hard on him for worlds; but I have always been afraid that he did not rightly understand Eric; the brothers were so different.  Mr. Hamilton is very hard-working and rather matter-of-fact, and Eric was quite different, more like a girl, dreamy and enthusiastic and terribly idle, and then he fancied himself an artist.  Mr. Hamilton could not bear that.’

‘Why not?  An artist’s is a very good profession.’

’Yes, but he did not believe in his talent; and then Eric was intended for the law; his brother had sent him to Oxford, but he would not work, and he was extravagant, and got into debt,—­and, oh yes, there was no end of trouble.  I do not know how it was,’ went on Mrs. Maberley, ’but Eric always seemed in the wrong.  Etta used to take his part,—­which was very good of her, as Eric could not bear her and treated her most rudely.  Mr. Hamilton used to complain that Gladys encouraged him in his idleness; he sometimes came in here of an evening looking quite miserable, poor fellow, and would say that his sisters and Eric were leagued against him; that but for Etta he would be at his wits’ end what to do.  Eric would not obey him; he simply defied his authority; he was growing more idle every day, and when he remonstrated with him, Gladys took his part.  Oh dear, I am afraid they were all very wretched.’

‘You think Mr. Hamilton did not understand his young brother.’