“There are other incapacities,” he said.

“But,” said Babie, half-pleading, half-meditating, “Allen is not stupid.  He used to be considered just as clever as Bobus; and he is so now to talk to.  Can there be any reason but laziness, and want of application, that makes him never succeed in anything, except in answering riddles and acrostics in the papers?  He generally just begins things, and makes mother or Armie finish them for him.  He really did set to work and finish up an article on Count Ugolino since we came home from Fordham, and he has tried all the periodicals round, and they won’t have it, not even the editors that know mother!”

“Poor fellow!  And you have no pity!”

“Don’t you think it is his own fault?”

“It is quite possible that he would have done much better if he had always had to work for his livelihood.  I grant you that even as a rich man he ought to have avoided the desultory ways, which, as you say, are more likely to have caused his failures than want of native ability.  But I don’t like to see you hard upon him.  You hardly realise how cruelly he has been treated in return for a very deep and generous attachment, or how such a grief must make it more difficult for him to exert his powers.”

“I don’t like you to think me hard and unkind,” said Babie, sadly.

“Only a little over just,” said Fordham.  “I am sure you could do a great deal to help and brighten Allen; and,” he added, smiling, “in the name of spoilt and shiftless heirs, I hope you will try.”

“Indeed I will,” said Babie earnestly, as the footman at the shop door signalled to the coachman that his ladies were ready.

She found it the less difficult to remember what he had said, because Allen himself was much less provoking to her.  Something was due to the influence and example of the strenuous endeavour that Fordham made to keep up to such duties as he had undertaken, not indeed onerous in themselves, but a severe labour to a man in his state.  It had been intimated to him also that his saturation with tobacco was distressing to his friend, and he was fond enough of him to abstain from his solace, except when walking home at night.

Perhaps this had cleared his senses to perceive habits of consideration for the family, which he had never thought incumbent on himself, whatever they might be in his brothers; and his eyes were open, as they had never yet been, to his mother’s straits.  It was chiefly indeed through his fastidiousness.  His mother and Babie had existed most of this time upon their Belforest wardrobe; indeed, the former, always wearing black, was still fairly provided; but Babie, who had not in those days been out, was less extensively or permanently provided; and Allen objected to the style in which she appeared in the enamelled carriage, “like a nursery governess out for an airing.”

“Or not so smart,” said Babie, merrily putting on her little black hat with the heron’s plume, and running down stairs.