When Roger came home Osborne did not let a day pass before telling
his brother of his plans. He never did conceal anything long from
Roger; the feminine part of his character made him always desirous of
a confidant, and as sweet sympathy as he could extract. But Roger's
opinion had no effect on Osborne's actions; and Roger knew this full
well. So when Osborne began with--"I want your advice on a plan
I have got in my head," Roger replied: "Some one told me that the
Duke of Wellington's maxim was never to give advice unless he could
enforce its being carried into effect; now I can't do that; and you
know, old boy, you don't follow out my advice when you've got it."
"Not always, I know. Not when it doesn't agree with my own opinion.
You're thinking about this concealment of my marriage; but you're
not up in all the circumstances. You know how fully I meant to have
done it, if there hadn't been that row about my debts; and then my
mother's illness and death. And now you've no conception how my
father is changed--how irritable he has become! Wait till you've been
at home a week! Robinson, Morgan--it's the same with them all; but
worst of all with me."
"Poor fellow!" said Roger; "I thought he looked terribly changed:
shrunken, and his ruddiness of complexion altered."
"Why, he hardly takes half the exercise he used to do, so it's no
wonder. He has turned away all the men off the new works, which used
to be such an interest to him; and because the roan cob stumbled with
him one day, and nearly threw him, he won't ride it; and yet he won't
sell it and buy another, which would be the sensible plan; so there
are two old horses eating their heads off, while he is constantly
talking about money and expense. And that brings me to what I was
going to say. I'm desperately hard up for money, and so I've been
collecting my poems--weeding them well, you know--going over them
quite critically, in fact; and I want to know if you think Deighton
would publish them. You've a name in Cambridge, you know; and I
daresay he would look at them if you offered them to him."
"I can but try," said Roger; "but I'm afraid you won't get much by
them."
"I don't expect much. I'm a new man, and must make my name. I should
be content with a hundred. If I'd a hundred pounds I'd set myself to
do something. I might keep myself and Aimée by my writings while I
studied for the bar; or, if the worst came to the worst, a hundred
pounds would take us to Australia."