It was naturally my intention that he should succeed me in my
business, but he was not of a business turn. He was wild, wayward, and,
to speak the truth, I could not trust him in the handling of large sums
of money. When he was young he became a member of an aristocratic club,
and there, having charming manners, he was soon the intimate of a
number of men with long purses and expensive habits. He learned to play
heavily at cards and to squander money on the turf, until he had again
and again to come to me and implore me to give him an advance upon his
allowance, that he might settle his debts of honour. He tried more than
once to break away from the dangerous company which he was keeping, but
each time the influence of his friend, Sir George Burnwell, was enough
to draw him back again.
And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George Burnwell
should gain an influence over him, for he has frequently brought him to
my house, and I have found myself that I could hardly resist the
fascination of his manner. He is older than Arthur, a man of the world
to his finger-tips, one who had been everywhere, seen everything, a
brilliant talker, and a man of great personal beauty. Yet when I think
of him in cold blood, far away from the glamour of his presence, I am
convinced from his cynical speech and the look which I have caught in
his eyes that he is one who should be deeply distrusted. So I think,
and so, too, thinks my little Mary, who has a woman s quick insight
into character.
And now there is only she to be described. She is my niece; but when
my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the world I
adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since as my daughter. She is
a sunbeam in my house sweet, loving, beautiful, a wonderful manager and
housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and gentle as a woman could be.
She is my right hand. I do not know what I could do without her. In
only one matter has she ever gone against my wishes. Twice my boy has
asked her to marry him, for he loves her devotedly, but each time she
has refused him. I think that if anyone could have drawn him into the
right path it would have been she, and that his marriage might have
changed his whole life; but now, alas! it is too late forever too late!
Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and I
shall continue with my miserable story.
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