The Good Comrade | Page 6

kitchen. She was not, however;
on the contrary, she showed every sign of accompanying them to the
little room behind.
"Do you want anything, Julia?" her father asked, turning about in the
doorway; "I'm busy to-night--I wish you would go away."

The sentence began with dignity, but ended with querulousness. But
Julia was not affected; she came into the room. "I want to talk to you,"
she said, closing the door. "You had much better tell me about it, you
will be found out, you know; mother would have guessed there was
something wrong to-day if she had not been so busy with Mr. Frazer."
"Found out in what?" the Captain demanded; "I should like to know of
what you accuse me--you, my own daughter--this is much, indeed."
He paced the hearthrug with outraged dignity, but Julia only drew one
of the horse-hair chairs to the table. "You would do better to tell me,"
she said; "I might be able to help you--Johnny, won't you sit down?"
Johnny took the cane deck-chair, sitting down nervously and so near
the edge that the old chair creaked ominously. Captain Polkington
paced the rug once or twice more, then he sat down opposite, giving up
all pretence of dignity.
"It is money, of course," Julia went on; "I suppose you lost at the races
yesterday--how much?"
The Captain did not answer, he seemed overwhelmed by his troubles.
"How much?" Julia repeated, turning to Mr. Gillat.
"It was rather much," that gentleman answered apologetically.
Julia looked puzzled. "How could he have much to lose?" she asked.
"You couldn't, you know," bending her brows as she looked at her
father--"unless you borrowed--did you borrow?"
"Yes, yes," he said, rather eagerly; "I borrowed--that was it; of course I
was going to pay back--I am going to pay back."
"From whom did you borrow?" Another pause, and the question again,
then the Captain explained confusedly: "The cheque--it came a day
early--I merely meant to make use of it for the day--"
"The cheque!" Julia repeated, with dawning comprehension. "The

cheque from Slade & Slade that mother was speaking of this morning.
Our cheque, the money we have to live on for the next three months?"
"My cheque," her father said, with one last effort at dignity; "made out
to me--my income that I have a perfect right to spend as I like; I used
my own money for my own purposes."
He forgot that a moment back he had excused the act as a borrowing;
Julia did not remind him, she was too much concerned with the facts to
trouble about mere turns of speech. They, like words and motives, had
not heretofore entered much into her considerations; consequences
were what was really important to her--how the bad might be averted,
how the good drawn that way, and all used to the best advantage. This
point of view, though it leaves a great deal to be desired, has one
advantage--those who take it waste no time in lamentation or reproof.
For that reason they are perhaps some of the least unpleasant people to
confess to.
Julia wasted no words now; she sat for a brief minute, stunned by the
magnitude of the calamity which had deprived them of the largest part
of their income for the next three months; then she began to look round
in her mind to see what might be done. Captain Polkington offered a
few not very coherent explanations and excuses, to which she did not
listen, and then relapsed into silence. Johnny sat opposite, rubbing his
hands in nervous sympathy, and looking from father to daughter; he
took the silence of the one to be as hopeless as that of the other.
"We thought," he ventured at last, tugging at the parcel now firmly
wedged in his pocket. "We hoped, that is, we thought perhaps we might
raise a trifle, it wouldn't be much help--"
But neither of the others were listening to him, and Captain Polkington
interrupted with his own remedy, "We shall have to manage on credit,"
he said; "we can get credit for this three months."
"We can't," Julia assured him; "the greater part of that money was to
have paid outstanding bills; we can't live on credit, because we haven't
got any to live on."

"That's nonsense," her father said; "it can be done with care and
economy, and retrenchments."
Julia did not answer, so Johnny took up the words. "Yes, yes," he said,
"one can always retrench; it is really marvellous how little one can do
with, in fact one is better for it; I feel a different man for having to
retrench. Your mother's a wonderful woman"--he stopped, then added
doubtfully as he thought of the lost apple tart--"I suppose, though, she
would want to make a good appearance