Piers folded the paper, and returned it to the child. "Give this back to Finch," he said. "He'll not want to be separated from it." He turned then to Renny. "Did you take it in, Renny? His friend Arthur calls him 'dearest' and 'darling.' Could you have believed it possible that one of us should ever have got into such a disgusting mix-up?"
Renny said, his eyes fixed on the spaniel: "This Arthur Leigh calls him 'dearest' and 'darling.'"
"Yes! And rants about the 'clarity of their relationship'!" He gave a flourish of his hand toward Finch. "Is it any wonder he looks a wreck—alternately boozing with butchers and tailors and spooning with a rotter like Leigh?"
"I thought you were a little fool," said the eldest Whiteoak, "but now I'm disgusted with you. You've been deceiving me, and wasting time when you should have been studying. As for this neurotic affair with Leigh—I tell you, I'm sick at heart for you."
Finch could not defend himself. He felt annihilated. He held Arthur's note in one shaking hand and in the other he gripped his handkerchief, but he did not hold it to his face. He left the misery of his face exposed to the eyes of his brothers. Sobs shook his lips. Tears ran down his cheeks unheeded.
Wakefield could not bear it. Slipping past Piers and Renny, he threw his arms about Finch's neck.
"Oh, don't cry," he implored. "Poor old Finch, don't cry!"
Renny said: "This is very bad for you," and took him under the arms and put him into the passage outside.
The little boy stood there motionless, his heart pounding heavily. He was oppressed by the strife among his elders. He had a feeling that something frightening was going to happen.
Mrs. Wragge came out of the kitchen carrying a corn broom and a dustpan. She began angrily to sweep something off the red brick floor into the pan.
"If that 'usband of mine," she affirmed, "don't quit
