"Amelia's brother, you know. An awful fellow. I haven't seen him for
years."
Then I placed Percy. I had met him once or twice in the old days, and I
had a brainwave. Percy was everything that poor old Harold disliked
most. He was hearty at breakfast, a confirmed back-slapper, and a man
who prodded you in the chest when he spoke to you.
"You haven't seen him for years!" I said in a shocked voice.
"Thank heaven!" said Harold devoutly.
I put down the photograph album, and looked at him in a deuced serious
way. "Then it's high time you asked him to come here."
Harold blanched. "Reggie, old man, you don't know what you are saying.
You can't remember Percy. I wish you wouldn't say these things, even in
fun."
"I'm not saying it in fun. Of course, it's none of my business, but you
have paid me the compliment of confiding in me about Amelia, and I feel
justified in speaking. All I can say is that, if you cherish her memory
as you say you do, you show it in a very strange way. How you can
square your neglect of Percy with your alleged devotion to Amelia's
memory, beats me. It seems to me that you have no choice. You must
either drop the whole thing and admit that your love for her is dead,
or else you must stop this infernal treatment of her favorite brother.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167