Athalie - Page 14/222

He shirked his studies, came home only to eat and sleep, remained out

late without explanation or any home interference, except for the

constant disputes and quarrels with Doris and Catharine, now aged

respectively fourteen and thirteen.

To Athalie he had little to say. Perhaps he did not realise it but he

was slightly afraid of her. And it was from her that he took any pains

at all to conceal his irregularities.

Once, coming in from school, she had found the house deserted, and

Jack smelling of alcohol just slouching out of the bar.

"If you do that again I shall tell father," she said, horrified.

"What do I care!" he had retorted sullenly. And it was true; the boy

no longer cared what anybody might think as long as Athalie already

knew and detested what he had done.

There was a garage in the neighbouring village. He spent most of his

time hanging around it. Sometimes he came home reeking of oil and

gasoline, sometimes his breath was tainted with tobacco and alcohol.

He was so much bigger and older than Athalie that the child had never

entirely lost her awe of him. His weakness of character, his failings,

and the fact that he was a trifle afraid of her opinion, combined to

astonish and bewilder her.

For a long while she tried to understand the gradual but certain

reversal of their relations. And one night, still more or less in awe

of him, she got out of bed and went softly into his room.

He was not asleep. The sudden apparition of his youngest sister

considerably startled him, and he sat up in his ragged night-shirt and

stared at her where she stood in the moonlight.

"You look like one of your own spooks!" he said. "What's the matter

with you?"

"I wanted to talk with you, Jack."

"What about?"

"You."

For a moment he sat there eyeing her uneasily; then: "Well, go ahead!" he said ungraciously; and stretched himself back on

the pillows.

She came and seated herself on the bed's edge: "Jack, please don't drink beer."

"Why not? Aw, what do you know about men, anyway? Don't they all smoke

and drink?"

"Mamma asked you not to."

"Gee-whiz! I was a kid then. But a man isn't a baby."

Athalie sighed. Her brother eyed her restlessly, aware of that slight

feeling of shame which always invaded his sullen, defiant discontent

when he knew that he had lowered himself in her estimation.