The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1880-12-25 00:00:00

MY ELDER BROTHER:

A STORY OF CHRISTMAS DAY.

BY W. C. M.

The firm of "Mason and Son," had been established
11Pwards of a century, the business having been
carried on by successive generations of the descendants
of the original founder. My father was now the sole
representative of the house, as I was not yet old
enough to be admitted a member of it, for it had
always been the practice in our family for a son not to
be made a partner until he was twenty-five, of which
age I still lacked nearly a twelvemonth. Under ordi-
llarY circumstances, indeed, I should have had no
right to expect that I should be taken into partner-
ship by my father, for I had an elder brother whose
Claims would, naturally, have enjoyed a priority over
Mine, had he been in a position to assert them. This,
however, was not the case, since he had quitted Eng-
land upwards of twelve years previous to the period
When my narrative commences, and from that
thne nothing whatever had been heard of him.
When a very young man he had had a serious
quarrel with my father, of the cause of which
was totally ignorant—and had gone out to Australia.
/le was nearly nine years my senior; and, when the
family breach occurred, I was a boy at boarding-school,
and se enjoyed no opportunity of learning what had
been the reason of his incurring my father's displeasure.
That he had most gravely offended him there could be
no question; for I could well remember that when, on
%ming home for the Christmas holidays, I inquired
Where my brother John was, my father sternly replied
that he had gone abroad; that I should never see him
again; and that his name was, henceforward, not to be
under any circumstances mentioned in the family.
On the completion of my education I had entered
the office of the firm, in the first instance as
innior clerk—for my father was a strict disciplinarian,
and insisted on my earning my promot before I
obtained it—and had gradually risen, step by step,
Until I had been entrusted with the post of naanager.
I looked forward, indeed, with confidence to a partner-
ship the following year; since, whether my brother

Were still living or not, there appeared to me not to be
the remotest probability of his ever returning to
rigland to contest my claims to the position I aspired
O. I had, in fact, a particular reason for being
desirous of becoming a member of the firm, for I was
engaged to a young lady to whom I was strongly at-
tached, and her father, in giving his consent to our
Ilion, had made it a condition that the marriage
should not take place until I was in business on my

°Wn account. I was waiting, therefore, with what
Patience I could command for the advent of my
tWenty-fifth birthday when, one morning at the office
raY father received a letter marked "immediate and
. Private," after the perusal of which he desired a cab to
be caved, and giving the driver of it an address in the
suburbs, on the Surrey side of the river, he hastily
, .ctoPped into the vehicle, which was to convey him to
nis place of destination. He did not return to the
counting-house that day, but, when I got home in the
„ evening, I found that he had returned a little before
toe. During dinner he scarcely spoke half-a-dozen
Words, and was indeed so unusually grave and silent
that I began to wonder what could have been the
nature of the business on which he had been engaged
B.lnee I had last seen him, for it to have so evidently
• disturbed his equanimity. This was a subject on which
. was destined, shortly, to be most unpleasantly en-
lightened. As we sat over our wine after dinner, my
- fAther abruptly broke silence by saying—
" Edward, do you retain any recollection of your
brother John?"
I was not a little surprised at this question, for,
,as I have already mentioned, no word in reference to
Ws eldest son had, to my knowledge, passed my father's
bps for many years past.
"Yes," I replied, "I do, but I do not very dis-
tinctly recal his image to my memory, for I was a
Mere child when he went out to Australia."
"You are ignorant of the cause of his leaving
home? None of the old clerks in the office have ever
ranted to you their surmises as to the nature of the
circumstances under which he quitted his native
country ?
"None! I have heard' that when a young man he
Was rather wild; but nothing more.'
"Rather wild ! " said my father, echoing my words
With a touch of scorn in his tone, "I should think he
Was. But, had that been all, I might not have found
It so difficult to forgive him. His offence, however—
as I then believed—was of a far more serious cha-
racter. I entertained, in fact, a suspicion, amounting
to a conviction, that he had deliberately robbed me.
Hitherto I have never breathed a single syllable with
respect to this matter to any human being, and, if I
do so now, it is only because I have this day most un-
ItPectedly learnt that I condemned him unjustly.
th-1114.Y, the facts are these :—Your brother, who at
bYatme filled the post of junior clerk, was entrusted stedf• „tti.le cashier, on one occasion, with a cheque for
epia.` hundred and fifty pounds to take to the bankers
"" Whom the account of the firm was kept. The
inue in question was drawn payable to bearer, and,
jan accidental omission, had not been crossed. As
did not appear, in due course, to the credit of the
mouse, inquiries were instituted with respect to it.
acrhn stated that he had handed it to one of the
receiving tellers, but was not certain as to the indi-
vidual ; whilst, they, each and all, most positively
declared that they had not seen it. The cheque, it
Was ascertained, had, in fact, been cashed over the
counter of the bank on which it was drawn by a young
Mau whose description tallied only too closely with
that of your brother. Nor was this all. I learnt
from inquiries, which I quietly instituted, that John
,W,as deeply in debt and was being pressed by one of
his disreputable associates for a considerable sum of
nioney he had lost to him at billiards. I could draw,
therefore, but one con-clusion from the facts before
le, and that was, that yielding to a sudden tempta-
tion, your brother had appropriated the proceeds of
the cheque to his own purposes. I would not listen
to
...._his protestations of innocence, but, paying his pas-
tor Australia, and giving him the sum of five
hundred pounds—which I told him was all he was ever
to expect from me—l bade him begone, and never let
.nie look upon his face again. He left England; and
trom that day to this I have not heard from him, nor
do I know whether he is still alive or not."
"lqy father here paused for a moment, and I said :
I infer from.the tenor of your narrative that some-
Piing has occurred to-day to cause you to doubt the
ittotness of the suspicions you entertained of my
brother's integrity. May I ask what it is ? "
lam coming to that" was the reply. "This
""Driling I had a letter from J— who, as you are
aware, was formerly in the employment of our bankers.
hi it he stated that he was on his death-bed, but that,
before he passed away, he wished to see me, as he had
a-coixununication of the utmost importance to make,
aad he begged me most earnestly, for my own sake,
not to rese to comply with his request. I went
rer, at once, to the address given me, and found
as he had said, very near his end. His object
'A sending for me was to confess that he had stolen
he cheque of whidh I have spoken. John had paid
/all' to my account, butaj—, to whom he handed it
Zrerved that it was not crossed, and, being at the time
Pecuniary difficulties, on the spur of the moment con-
ceived the idea of appropriating it. He did so, and
tiltrusted therencashment of it to a confederate, who,
ty: a most unfortunate coincidence, would appear to
'4ve borne a resemblance tc John. J— went on to
Say that when he heard that my eldest son had gone
abroiLd, he conjectured that my suspicions had fallen
,13°Whina, and that he had left home in disgrace. At the
J— admitted that this circumstance troubled
On but little ; but, he continued, now that he knew
Plself to be dying, not only the crime he had cora-
natted, but the fact that another had suffered on
tecount of it, preyed heavily upon his mind, and he
finally, come to the resolution of sending for me
confessing all. He concluded by imploring my
4-rctiveness for the irremediable wrong he had done me
my son. Irremedidble indeed! It was with
ofttac ulty that I could bring my pardon to ardon the
„Ince. However, at such a moment I could not
iva.."lBo the wretched man's prayer, and I assured him
aa'44,t I forgave him. I then left ' the house, but not
he had given me a written confession of his
b'kole, which he had drawn up a few days previously,
114 which he had hesitated to place in ray hands so
Ong as he cherished any hope of recovery."
q; What do you purpose doing in the matter" I ea-
t red, as my father again paused for a moment or
wo,
br'' Airy course," was the response, "now that your
...other's innocence is declared, is plain. I will, so far
is! Possible, make him every atonement in my power
.‘ir the wrong I have mistakenly done him. I shall,
1131.reediately, cause advertisements to be inserted in
4;erY journal in Australia, in the hope that, if John
I still living, one or other of them may meet his eye.
411• 311 also request our correspondents in Victoria
Cinaensland to institute inquiries with respect to
fn'in and to spare no expense in doing so. If he be
ci I shall beg him to return to England without
ti;"`a'S'• Once here, he shall become my partner and
the firm will be once more in reality, what it now
15
'rain !lame, Mason and Son."
was by no means pleasant news for me. Heh-
h,,, alone should
I wished my brother no ill; but that he and
Lono should fill the position I had confidently looked
eorward to occupying, was a sere blow to me. I was,
indignant at the cool way in which my father
nored me, in making his arrangements for the future;
40 I rejoined quickly:
Might you not rather have said Mason and
?' I have no desire to contest my brother's
14"4138, as the elder of the two, to a superior position
a_ the firm. But it appears to me that the reasonable
asPectationa I have formed of becoming your partner
e entitled to some consideration.
_ sooner had these words passed my lips that I
reereeived, by the expression of my father's coun-
oek that the warmth with which I had spoken
„anjured my cause. He replied coldly:
-Lt is not for you Sir, to dictate to me the course
ha, to Pursue in this matter. The style of the house
a:'-c!.ays been Mason and Son,' and so it will
• n
ssi; However, if your brother return to take his
iotf'L.°. Place in the firm, you shall receive compensa-
„alio, for your disappointment in the shape of an in-
se of your salary as manager."
Yes," I thought, bitterly, "I am to be paid a
7.,tcrY 'as manager, and so remain on the footing of a
;74 clerk i who can be dismissed at any time by his
thev °Yet- However, I knew it was useless to oursue
that,argument, it being characteristic of my -father
I", when ence he had made up his mind on any sub-
atha__no consideration for the *ishes or feelings of
4,7;11 was likely, to affect his course of action. I
-.Lore sma •
ply said—


"For how long a period do you propose to continue
your search for my brother, assuming that your in-
quiries, prove, in the first instance, unsuccessful?"
"If," was the reply, "at the expiration of a year
from this time, or say, by Christmas next, which, this
being February, is a little less than a twelvemonth, I
have obtained no tidings of John, I shall abandon all
hope that he be still living. In that case you shall be
admitted into the firm, the partnership dating from
the first day of the new year. Will that content
you?
"Since you offer me no better terms, it must do, I
suppose," I rejoined discontentedly.

The conversation then dropped, but it had acforded
me food for very serious meditation, for I could not
help reflecting how much depended upon my father's
decision, and how little I possessed the power of in-
fluencing it.
'My father made the most persevering efforts to
obtain news of my brother, but fruitlessly. Month
succeeded month without either his advertisements or
the enquiries instituted by his business correspondents
in Australia, eliciting any response whatsoever. At
last, in fact, the conviction seemed to have forced
itself upon his mind that John must be no more, for I
observed that, on one or two occasions, when speaking
of his arrangements for the ensuing year, he did so in
language which implied that I should then have a
voice in the matter. _

At last Christmas Day arrived, and I knew that,
in a few hours more, the long suspense, by which my
mind had been agitated, must come to an end in one
way or the other. .Let my brother be still alive, and
only arrive in England after the day had expired, and
I was safe; for I knew that my father's word, once
pledged, might be implicitly relied upon.
On Christmas day, as usual, a dinner party was
given at our house, to which, amongst others, Lucy
Weyman, the young lady to whom I was engaged,
and her parents were invited. My father was in the
drawing-room receiving his guests, when a servant
entered the apartment, and informed him that a
gentleman, who declined to give his card, was below
and wished to speak to him on very particular busi-
ness. It was rather an odd time to select for such a
matter, and so my father appeared to think, for a
slight shade of annoyance passed over his countenance.
However, without a word he quitted the room; and
upon me devolved the duty of promoting conversation
amongst our friends, so as to fill up the awkward
half-hour which ordinarily precedes a formal dinner
party. I therefore left the side of Lucy, with whom I
had been talking, and mingled with our other
guests. Presently the clock struck seven, every
one of our friends had arrived, but still my father
did not return to the drawing-room. Another
quarter of an hour passed, and then ringing the
bell, I desired, in a low tone, the domestic who an-
swered it to let my father know that it was past the
dinner hour, and that we waited only for him. The
servant had left the room but a few minutes, when
my father entered it, leaning on the arm of a tall and
remarkably handsome man. It needed not the strong
likeness which existed between the two to carry con-
viction to my soul that the stranger was my brother
John. I felt, instinctively, the instant that my eyes
rested upon him that it could be no other than he, and
I turned deadly pale, so sudden and unexpected was
the shock, as I realized that his return home had by a
strange fatality, been so timed as to give the death-
blow to my hopes. My father proceeded to introduce
the stranger to his guests as his eldest son who had
just arrived in England from Australia. son,
of our
friends were evidently not a little surprised at the
nature of the communication, although politeness pre-
vented their expressing their astonishment, for with
the exception of one or two individuals, who had
known my father for many years, the general im-
pression amongst our acquaintances had hitherto been
that I was an only son.
I, of course, shook hands with my brother and bade
him welcome, but I imagined that he must have per-
ceived from the air of constraint with which I did so,
that his unexpected appearance in our midst had
given me a surprise which was not altogether of an
agreeable character. When we descended to the
dining-room, John found a seat next Lucy, to whom
it soon seemed to me that he began paying rather
particular attention. It was bad enough, I thought,
for his return home at this juncture to have blighted
my business prospects, but, to make love to my be-
trothed, was to add jealousy to my other mortifica-
tions. My cup of bitterness was in fact, full to over-
flowing, and I do not think that I ever spent a more
miserable day in the whole course of my existence
than I did that Christmas. This was certainly not
the case with my brother. He seemed most perfectly
at his ease and fell into his place as eldest son, as
quickly as though he had never been a single day
from home. He was, indeed, the life and soul of
the company; and, after the ladies had retired
from the table, he entertained the gentlemen by
relating various anecdotes of his experiences at the
gold-fields in Australia. I observed, however, that—
either from accident or design—nothing fell from him
from which an inference could be drawn as to whether
or not he, himself, had been successful there.
At last the, to me, weary day came to an end; the
last of our guests had departed; and I retired to my
chamber, leaving my father and John together. But,
before I did so, I was an auditor of my brother's ex-
planation of the circumstances under which he had
returned home. It appeared that an old copy of a
newspaper containing one of my father's advertise-
ments having, by the merest accident, fallen into his
hands, he had immediately written to him saying that
he should sail for England in the course of a few weeks.
This letter must have miscarried; for, as the reader is
aware, the first intimation my father and myself had
of his being still alive was his presence that day.
John, in conclusion, hinted rather than asserted that
his career in Australia had not, on the whole, been a
successful one ; but he entered into no details, and my
father forbore to press him on the subject.

From what subsequently transpired I learnt that
after I had left my father and brother alone together,
they had come to a satisfactory explanation with re-
gard to the unfortunate error into which the former
had fallen years ago. My father, after expressing his
sorrow for what had occurred in the past, offered, as
the only atonement in his power to make, •to take
John into partnership. My brother, curiously enough,
evinced no particular eagerness to embrace the pro-
position. In fact, he neither accepted nor declined
it, simply saying that he should like to enjoy a few
months' holiday before he settled down to business; to
which demand my father acceded. If my brother had
not madised a fortune in Australia he had certainly
not left the colbny without a hundred or two in his
pocket, for he made excursions to different parts of
England and the continent from time to time, and
when in London, was a constant visitor at the
theatres and other places of amusement. All this he
did at his own expense, saying, when on one occasion my
father asked him if he wanted any money, that he had
quite sufficient, for the present, of his own. •
In the meanwhile I had an interview with Mr.
Weyman my Lucy's father, and I frankly admitted
to him theechange in my prospects which my brother's
return to England had caused. The old gentleman's
behaviour on the occasion exceeded my moat sanguine
expectations. Whilst expressing an almost insuper-
able reluctance to allowing his daughter to marry me
in my present position, he said that he was aware
that she was strongly attached to me and that, her
happiness being his first consideration, he would make
me this proposition. That I should wait a short
time to see what course events took. That if, at the
expiration of a
.few months, I still found that my
father persisted in taking my brother alone into
partnership with him—" of which" said the speaker
I have considerable doubts for John does not seem
disposed to settle down to the routine of commercial
life "—I should then engage in business on my own
account.
" You have" continued Mr. Weyman "five thou-
sand pounds, which you have inherited from your
mother. Lucy's marriage portion will be, as yes.
are aware, eight thousand. It was my In-
tention that this money should be as is usual, settled
upon her, but instead of this only half the amount
shall be so appropriated, the other moiety shall be
placed in your hands, and, added to your own inherit-
ance you will be master of a capital quite sufficient to
warrant your embarking in business. I may say, in
fact, that I began the world with considerably less.
What say you to my proposal?
"That I most gratefully embrace it," was my
quick reply.
"Then, that matter may be considered as settled,"
was the response. "By the bye, Edward, you are not
the only member of your family who has conceived a
regard for a daughter of mine. Your brother, John,
if I mistake not, has fallen in love with Mary. It is
true there is a disparity of nearly fifteen years between
them, but if she be disposed to overlook it, I shall
raise no objections to the match."
How blind I had been! Regarding Lucy's
younger sister with calm brotherly indifference,
myself, I had never for a moment suspected
that she was the magnet which attracted my
brother so frequently to Mr. Weyman's house ; and,
I believing that my Lucy was the object of his pre-
ference, I had been miserably jealous, although pride
had induced me to conceal the feeling from her. The
relief, therefore, which her father's words afforded me
was inexpressible, and I took my leave of him
with a lighter heart than I had known for some time
past.
John, as Mr. Weyman had noticed, showed no dis-
position to attempt to master the details of the busi-
ness, so as to fit himself for assuming the duties of the
position which had been offered him. On the con-
trary, lie rarely made his appearance in the counting-
house, and seemed to take no interest in the business
whatever. My father, from time to time, remon-
strated with him on the subject, but to no effect, my
buother in;iariably evading a compliance with his
wishes. I was surprised at the patience with which
my father submitted to treatment from John which he
would bitterly have resented in me. Perhaps the re-
collection of the injustice he had formerly done him,
made my father bear with him so long as he did. But
all endurance has its limits, and Joins at last came to
the end of his tether.
Another Christmas had nearly come round when one
day my father said to my brother, as we sat at break-
fast,
"John I must speak seriously to you, for it is high
time that we came to an understanding as to the rela-
tions which are to exist, for the future, between us.
Do not leave the room Edward," he added, "as I rose
from the table presuming that my presence was not
desired. What I have to say to your brother I wish
you to hear."
I sat down again, and my father resumed, addressing
John. _ .

"Nearly a year has now elapsed since your return
to England and during this period you have never once
evinced the least disposition to comply with my desire
that you should make yourself acquainted with the
business of the firm. So ignorant, in fact, are you of
every detail of it that, were you to take part in it to-
morrow, your want of acquaintance with the routine
of the office would expose you to the ridicule of the
youngest clerk in the establishment. This state of
things must come to an end, and at once. Either you
give me your word of nonour that you will, henceforth,
conform yourself to my demands or—"
Here my father paused for a moment without
completing the sentence, and John interposed
"What is the alternative if I do not ? "
"'SmiPli-this, that - you may abandon all eirpecta--
tions of becoming my partner. I will not have the
future stability of the house endangered when I am

no more, by the management of affairs being
entrusted totone incompetent to conduct them."
"Well," rejoined John, coolly, "as I find that I
have no taste for the confinement and monotony of
city life, I fear that I must abandon all expectations
of occupying the position you have been so kind as to
offer me."

"And pray, Sir," said my father angrily, "how do
you propose to live? You have as good as admitted
that you brought very little money back with ycu
from Australia, and what you had must be by this
time, at the rate of expenditure you have indulged in,
pretty nearly all gone. Do you expect me to support
you in idleness? If so, you are very much mis-
taken." . _

"I have cherished no such expectations," replied
my brother with a most exasperating indifference of
manner, my father's irritation seeming rather to
amuse him than otherwise.

"How then, I ask you, once more, do you propose
to support,yourself ?"

John slowly took out his pocket book, selected one
of the papers it contained and passed it across the
table to my father. As he did so he said:

"If you will look at that document your will per-
ceive that it is a deposit note for eighteen thousand
pounds standing to my credit with Messrs. -, the
bankers in Lombard-street. I have besides property
in the colony of Victoria which I estimate as being
worth some twelve or fifteen thousand more. So you
see I am not quite a pauper and entirely dependent
upon your bounty."
My father's astonishment as he glanced at the
paper John had handed him was positively ludicrous,
and, for a minute or two, he sat looking at it in
silence, too bewildered, apparently, to find words
wherewith to express himself. He felt, however, that
he was beaten, and he had the sense to acknowledge
his defeat.

"1 admit," he presently said, "that, having ac-
quired such a fortune as you are possessed of, you are
under no necessity of adopting a course of life which is
distasteful to you. But why not have frankly in-
formed me earlier of your real situation ! "

"Simply," was the reply, "because I wished to see
what reception I should meet with, if I represented
myself as having returned home an unsuccessful man.
I must candidly confess that I have had no reason to
complain of the treatment I have experienced at your
hands. On the contrary, considering my supposed
poverty, you have exercised considerable forbearance
towards me, for my persistent neglect of the business
could scarcely fail to have been displeasing to you.
You have, however, in my brother here, a son far better
fitted to take the place of junior partner in the firm
than ever I should have been. Ned," he continued,
laying his hand kindly upon my shoulder, "It was
never, for one moment, my intention to contest your
claims to the position to which, I am well aware you
have aspired, and which, I trust, my father will offer
you. For myself it is my intention to purchase a
small estate within a reasonable distance of the metro-
polis, marry, and settle down to the life of a country
gentleman."
"Well," said may father, more graciously than I
could have anticipated, "since you do not like com-
mercial life, I suppose Edward must take the place I
had intended for you. But you have not mentioned
the name of the lady whom you intend to make your
wife. Who is she?"

"Mary Weyman !" was John's reply. "Ned had
shown such excellent taste in selecting the one sister
that I thought I could not do better than follow his
example and choose the other. I am happy to say
that she has accepted me, and I propose, if my brother
has no objection that we shall both be married on the
same day."
" Agreed !" I exclaimed, and we shook hands upon
it.

The double wedding was fixed to take place in
January, on the first of which month my long-
cherished ambition was to be gratified by my becoming
a member of the firm of Mason and Son.

At Christmas there was, again, a dinner party, at my
father's house ; but ah, how different were my feelings
on this occasion to those I experienced on the previous
one. Then, distracted by doubts and fears of ‘what the
future might have in store for me, I ha,d felt but little
disposition to participate in the festivities of the
season. Now, with the fairest worldly prospects open-
in, before me, and with the confident anticipation
that in a few short weeks I should call the woman I
loved my own, there was nothing to prevent my
thoroughly enjoying myself; and the day was to me
as happy a one as the last had been miserable. How
true it is, that often, when our prospects present the
gloomiest aspect, it is "but the darkness which pre-
cedes the dawn," and we live to smile at the dire fore-
bodings which once possessed us.

_
In due time John and I were married to the re-
spective objects of our choice ; and since then but little
has occurred to disturb the tranquil current of my life.
Yet, although several years have now elapsed since
that period, the recollection of the Two Christmas
Days of which I have -spoken still remains indelibly
impressed upon my memory.