Morley greeted Gerard and his daughter with great warmth, and thenlooked at Egremont. "Our companion in the ruins of Marney Abbey," saidGerard; "you and our friend Franklin here should become acquainted,Stephen, for you both follow the same craft. He is a journalist likeyourself, and is our neighbour for a time, and yours."
"What journal are you on, may I ask?" enquired Morley.
Egremont reddened, was confused, and then replied, "I have no claim tothe distinguished title of a journalist. I am but a reporter; and havesome special duties here."
"Hem!" said Morley, and then taking Gerard by the arm, he walked awaywith him, leaving Egremont and Sybil to follow them.
"Well I have found him, Walter."
"What, Hatton?"
"No, no; the brother."
"And what knows he?"
"Little enough; yet something. Our man lives and prospers; these arefacts, but where he is, or what he is--not a clue."
"And this brother cannot help us?"
"On the contrary, he sought information from me; he is a savage, beneatheven our worst ideas of popular degradation. All that is ascertainedis that our man exists and is well to do in the world. There comes anannual and anonymous contribution, and not a light one, to his brother.I examined the post-marks of the letters, but they all varied, and wereevidently arranged to mislead. I fear you will deem I have not donemuch; yet it was wearisome enough I can tell you."
"I doubt it not; and I am sure Stephen, you have done all that mancould. I was fancying that I should hear from you to-day; for what thinkyou has happened? My Lord himself, his family and train, have all beenin state to visit the works, and I had to show them. Queer that, wasn'tit? He offered me money when it was over. How much I know not, I wouldnot look at it. Though to be sure, they were perhaps my own rents, eh?But I pointed to the sick box and his own dainty hand deposited the sumthere."
"'Tis very strange. And you were with him face to face?"
"Face to face. Had you brought me news of the papers, I should havethought that providence had rather a hand in it--but now, we are stillat sea."
"Still at sea," said Morley musingly, "but he lives and prospers. Hewill turn up yet, Walter."
"Amen! Since you have taken up this thing, Stephen, it is strange how mymind has hankered after the old business, and yet it ruined my father,and mayhap may do as bad for his son."
"We will not think that," said Morley. "At present we will think ofother things. You may guess I am a bit wearied; I think I'll say goodnight; you have strangers with you."
"Nay, nay man; nay. This Franklin is a likely lad enough; I think youwill take to him. Prithee come in. Sybil will not take it kindly if yougo, after so long an absence; and I am sure I shall not."
So they entered together.
The evening passed in various conversation, though it led frequently tothe staple subject of talk beneath the roof of Gerard--the Conditionof the People. What Morley had seen in his recent excursion affordedmaterials for many comments.
"The domestic feeling is fast vanishing among the working classes ofthis country," said Gerard; "nor is it wonderful--the Home no longerexists."
"But there are means of reviving it," said Egremont; "we have witnessedthem to-day. Give men homes, and they will have soft and homely notions,If all men acted like Mr Trafford, the condition of the people would bechanged."
"But all men will not act like Mr Trafford," said Morley. "It requiresa sacrifice of self which cannot be expected, which is unnatural. Itis not individual influence that can renovate society: it is some newprinciple that must reconstruct it. You lament the expiring idea ofHome. It would not be expiring, if it were worth retaining. The domesticprinciple has fulfilled its purpose. The irresistible law of progressdemands that another should be developed. It will come; you mayadvance or retard, but you cannot prevent it. It will work out like thedevelopment of organic nature. In the present state of civilization andwith the scientific means of happiness at our command, the notion ofhome should be obsolete. Home is a barbarous idea; the method of arude age; home is isolation therefore anti-social. What we want isCommunity."
"It is all very fine," said Gerard, "and I dare say you are right,Stephen; but I like stretching my feet on my own hearth."
Book 3 Chapter 10