Roger Ingleton, Minor Part 36

"Pardon me--kindness is not the word. I appeal to your common-sense--"

Unlucky speech! Roger, who was painfully aware that he was not clever, was naturally touchy at any reference to his common-sense.

"It doesn't seem much use discussing," said he. "I made a mistake in showing you the letter."

"I heartily regret you did."

"I hoped you would have helped me in my difficulty."

"I will do anything for you except believe, without proof, and in spite of every probability, that Ratman is your brother."

"He is just the age my brother would have been now."

"So is George the coachman, so am I, so are half a dozen men in the village."

"He certainly has some resemblance to the portrait."

"I could find you a score more like it in London."

"The long and short of it is, Armstrong, I cannot look to you to back me up in this."

"To make Robert Ratman into Roger Ingleton?--I fear not. To back you up in all else, and be at your call whether you think well or ill of me-- certainly."

They parted angrily, though without a quarrel. Mr Armstrong had rarely felt himself so put out, and crashed away ruthlessly at his piano all the morning.

Roger, perhaps conscious that logic was not on his side, whatever instinct and feeling might be, retired disappointed and miserable to the park, and never remembered his appointment with the eager Tom.

At lunch-time he said to Captain Oliphant--

"When did you think of going to town?"

"At the end of the week, my boy. What do you say to coming?"

"Yes--I'll come."

The Captain darted a triumphant glance in the direction of the tutor.

But the tutor was investigating the contents of a game pie in the endeavour to discover a piece of egg for Miss Jill.

After a pause that young lady took up her discourse.

"If father and Roger go to town, Tom, we shall have dear Mr Armstrong all to ourselves."

"Hooroo!" said Tom; "that is, if it's holidays."

"I am thinking of going to Oxford next week," said the tutor, elaborately folding up his napkin, addressing his co-trustee. "Have you any message I can give to any of your acquaintances there?"

"I think it would be a pity for you to leave Maxfield just now. One of us should remain."

"Yes, do stay. We'll have such larks," said Tom. "We'll get Rosalind to come and stay, and then we shall be able to play regular matches, ladies against gentlemen, you know."

"No. Mr Armstrong and I will stand Rosalind and you," suggested Jill.

Even these allurements failed.

"I shall make my visit as short as possible. I have, as you know, a few creditors in Oxford on whom I am anxious to call. Let me give you a little cheese, Roger."

That evening when, as usual, the tutor looked in to say good night to his ward, Roger said rather gloomily--

"I suppose you object to my going to London?"

"On the contrary, I rather envy you."

"Of course you understand I am going up to make inquiries?"

"Naturally. With Captain Oliphant's a.s.sistance?"

"No. I'm not inclined to tell him anything at present. He has no idea that Ratman is anything but an Indian acquaintance."

"My address will be '"Green Dragon," Oxford,'" said the tutor.

"By the way," said Roger--both men were talking in the forced tones which belong to an unacknowledged estrangement--"Whether this matter is right or not, I propose to write to Ratman and enclose him 10."

"Naturally," said the tutor.

"I am tied down, as you know, in the matter of my pocket-money, and can't well spare it out of my present allowance. I want the trustees to give me an extra allowance."

"In other words, you want your trustees to keep Mr Robert Ratman at the rate of 250 a year. I shall agree to that the day that he satisfies me he is Roger Ingleton."

"I expected you would refuse. I must ask Captain Oliphant."

"I'm afraid he will require my sanction to any such arrangement."

"What! Do you mean to say that I am at your mercy in a matter like this?"

"I fear that is unhappily the case. I can resolve the matter by resigning my tutors.h.i.+p."

Had it come to that? Roger glanced up with a scared look which for the moment clouded out the vexation in his face.

"Excuse me, Armstrong. All this worry is bad for my temper. I'm afraid I lost it."

"I can sympathise," said the tutor, "for I have lost mine. Good night."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

ROGER SEES A LITTLE TOO MUCH LIFE.