I must refer you to the Registrar of the District in which the humble dwelling was situated, for the certified cause of death; but early sorrow and anxiety may have had to do with it, though they may not appear in the ruled pages and printed forms. Indisputably this was the case with Another, for he was so cut up by the loss of his young wife that if he outlived her a year it was as much as he did.′
There is that in the indolent Mortimer, which seems to hint that if good society might on any account allow itself to be impressible, he, one of good society, might have the weakness to be impressed by what he here relates. It is hidden with great pains, but it is in him. The gloomy Eugene too, is not without some kindred touch; for, when that appalling Lady Tippins declares that if Another had survived, he should have gone down at the head of her list of lovers—and also when the mature young lady shrugs her epaulettes, and laughs at some private and confidential comment from the mature young gentleman—his gloom deepens to that degree that he trifles quite ferociously with his dessert-knife.
Mortimer proceeds.
′We must now return, as novelists say, and as we all wish they wouldn′t, to the man from Somewhere. Being a boy of fourteen, cheaply educated at Brussels when his sister′s expulsion befell, it was some little time before he heard of it—probably from herself, for the mother was dead; but that I don′t know. Instantly, he absconded, and came over here. He must have been a boy of spirit and resource, to get here on a stopped allowance of five sous a week; but he did it somehow, and he burst in on his father, and pleaded his sister′s cause. Venerable parent promptly resorts to anathematization, and turns him out. Shocked and terrified boy takes flight, seeks his fortune, gets aboard ship, ultimately turns up on dry land among the Cape wine: small proprietor, farmer, grower—whatever you like to call it.′
At this juncture, shuffling is heard in the hall, and tapping is heard at the dining-room door. Analytical Chemist goes to the door, confers angrily with unseen tapper, appears to become mollified by descrying reason in the tapping, and goes out.
′So he was discovered, only the other day, after having been expatriated about fourteen years.′
A Buffer, suddenly astounding the other three, by detaching himself, and asserting individuality, inquires: ′How discovered, and why?′
′Ah! To be sure. Thank you for reminding me. Venerable parent dies.′
Same Buffer, emboldened by success, says: ′When?′
′The other day. Ten or twelve months ago.′
Same Buffer inquires with smartness, ′What of?′ But herein perishes a melancholy example; being regarded by the three other Buffers with a stony stare, and attracting no further attention from any mortal.
′Venerable parent,′ Mortimer repeats with a passing remembrance that there is a Veneering at table, and for the first time addressing him—′dies.′
The gratified Veneering repeats, gravely, ′dies′; and folds his arms, and composes his brow to hear it out in a judicial manner, when he finds himself again deserted in the bleak world.
′His will is found,′ said Mortimer, catching Mrs Podsnap′s rocking-horse′s eye. ′It is dated very soon after the son′s flight. It leaves the lowest of the range of dust-mountains, with some sort of a dwelling-house at its foot, to an old servant who is sole executor, and all the rest of the property—which is very considerable—to the son.
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