I dont want a game, mother, not for Megs sake, who doesnt count. I want to be pleasant to you and to father, too, said Gervase, standing up against the fireplace, which, of course, was vacant this summer night.
Sir Giles was so far from appreciating the effort of his son, that he sat fuming in his chair, while Dunning collected the scattered men, muttering indistinct thunders, and pettishly putting away with his stick the pieces of the game. Make haste! cant you make haste, man? he mumbled; I want my drink, and Im going to bed. And I wont have my evening spoiled like this again. I wont, by George, not for anything you can say. Four nights Ive been a martyr to that cub, and I dont see that youve done much to keep him in order, my lady! It all falls upon me, as everything does, and, by George, I wont have it again. Cant you make haste, you old fool, and have done with your groping? Youre losing your eyesight, I believe. Have one of the women in to find them, and get me my drink, for Im going to bed.
Ill find them, father, cried Gervase cheerfully, plunging down upon the carpet on his hands and knees, and pushing the old gentlemans stick back into his face.
For goodness sake, Meg, find something for him to do! and take that boy off his father, or Sir Giles will have a fit, cried Lady Piercey in Mrs. Osbornes ear.
Get out o my way, you young ass! Sir Giles thundered, raising the stick and bestowing
an angry blow upon his sons shoulders. Gervase sat up on his knees like a dog, and stared for a moment angrily, with his hand lifted as if he would have returned the blow. Then he opened his mouth wide and gave forth a great laugh. Poor old Sir Giles caught at Dunnings arm, clutching him in an ecstasy of exasperation. Get me off, man, cant you? Get me out of sight of him; take me to bed, the old father cried, in that wretchedness of miserable perception which only parents know. His son his only son! His heir, the last of the Pierceys! this Softy sitting up like a dog upon the floor!
Lady Piercey fell back also in her chair, and whimpered a little piteously, like the poor old woman she was, as Sir Giles was wheeled out of the room. The backgammon board, overturned, lay on the floor, with the pieces scattered over the carpet, and Gervase scrambling after them, for Dunning had been too tremulous and frightened to pick more than half of them up. Oh! my poor, silly boy! oh! you dreadful, dreadful fool! the old lady cried. Will you never learn any better? Cant you wake up and be a man? She cried over this, for a little, very bitterly, with that terrible sense of the incurable which turns the poor soul back upon itself and then she flung round in her big chair towards her niece, who stood silent and troubled, not knowing what part to take. Its all your fault, she cried in a fierce whisper, for not finding something for him to do. Why didnt you find something for him to do? You might have played something to him, or sung something with him, or got him to look at pictures, or anything! And now youve let your poor uncle go off in a rage, which may bring on a fit as likely as not, and me worse, for I cant give in like him. Oh, Meg, what an ungrateful, selfish thing you are to stand there and never interfere when you might have found him something to do!
When Lady Pierceys procession streamed off afterwards to bed, my lady leaning heavily on Parsons arm and Margaret following with the work, Gervase was left still picking up the pieces, sprawling over the carpet and laughing as he followed the little round pieces of ivory and wood into the corners where they had rolled. Margaret went back to the library after being released by her aunt, and found him still there making a childish game of this for his own amusement, and chuckling to himself as he raced them over the carpet. He scrambled up, however, a little ashamed when he heard her voice asking, What are you doing, Gervase? Oh, nothing, he said with his foolish laugh, stuffing the men into his pockets. She put her hand upon his shoulder kindly.
Gervase, dear, youre quite grown up, dont you know; quite a man now. You mustnt be so mischievous, just like a boy. Poor Uncle Giles, you must not play tricks upon him; he likes a quiet game.
Dont you be a fool, Meg. Why, that was what I was doing all the night, playing his quiet game. Poor old father, he got into a temper, but bless you twasnt my fault. Its that old ass, Dunning, thats always getting in everybodys way.
Of course he would like you best, Gervase, but Dunning knows all his ways. Your game might be better fun
I should think so, said the poor Softy. My game is the game, and Dunning spoils everything. It aint my fault, though every one of you gets into a wax with me, Gervases lip quivered a little as if he might have cried, and me giving up everything only to please them! he said.
I am sure they are pleased to see you always indoors and not spending your time in that dreadful place.
What dreadful place? That is all you know Id never have come home any more but for them thats there. It was she that sent me to please the old folks. But I shant go on much longer if you all treat me like this. Ive tried my best to make the time pass for them, Meg, to give them a laugh and that. And they huff me and cuff me as if I was a fool. Why do they always call me a fool, cried the poor fellow with a passing cloud of trouble, whatever I do?