No More Learning

Reggie was humble. And he had letters in his desk from the Directors
that a Gilbarte or a Hardie might have been proud of!

The days passed in the big darkened house, and the Directors' letter of
dismissal to Riley came and was put away by Reggie, who, every evening,
brought the books to Riley's room, and showed him what had been going
forward, while Riley snarled. Reggie did his best to make statements
pleasing to Riley, but the Accountant was sure that the Bank was going
to rack and ruin without him. In June, as the lying in bed told on his
spirit, he asked whether his absence had been noted by the Directors,
and Reggie said that they had written most sympathetic letters, hoping
that he would be able to resume his valuable services before long. He
showed Riley the letters: and Riley said that the Directors ought to
have written to him direct.

A few days later, Reggie opened Riley's mail in the half-light of the
room, and gave him the sheet--not the envelope--of a letter to Riley
from the Directors. Riley said he would thank Reggie not to interfere
with his private papers, specially as Reggie knew he was too weak to
open his own letters. Reggie apologized.

Then Riley's mood changed, and he lectured Reggie on his evil ways:
his horses and his bad friends. "Of course, lying here on my back, Mr.
Burke, I can't keep you straight; but when I'm well, I DO hope you'll
pay some heed to my words. " Reggie, who had dropped polo, and dinners,
and tennis, and all to attend to Riley, said that he was penitent and
settled Riley's head on the pillow and heard him fret and contradict in
hard, dry, hacking whispers, without a sign of impatience. This at the
end of a heavy day's office work, doing double duty, in the latter half
of June.

When the new Accountant came, Reggie told him the facts of the case, and
announced to Riley that he had a guest staying with him.
Riley said that
he might have had more consideration than to entertain his "doubtful
friends" at such a time. Reggie made Carron, the new Accountant, sleep
at the Club in consequence. Carron's arrival took some of the heavy work
off his shoulders, and he had time to attend to Riley's exactions--to
explain, soothe, invent, and settle and resettle the poor wretch in
bed, and to forge complimentary letters from Calcutta. At the end of the
first month, Riley wished to send some money home to his mother. Reggie
sent the draft. At the end of the second month, Riley's salary came in
just the same. Reggie paid it out of his own pocket; and, with it, wrote
Riley a beautiful letter from the Directors.

Riley was very ill indeed, but the flame of his life burnt unsteadily.
Now and then he would be cheerful and confident about the future,
sketching plans for going Home and seeing his mother.

Reggie listened patiently when the office work was over, and encouraged
him.

At other times Riley insisted on Reggie's reading the Bible and grim
"Methody" tracts to him. Out of these tracts he pointed morals directed
at his Manager. But he always found time to worry Reggie about the
working of the Bank, and to show him where the weak points lay.

This in-door, sick-room life and constant strains wore Reggie down a
good deal, and shook his nerves, and lowered his billiard-play by forty
points. But the business of the Bank, and the business of the sick-room,
had to go on, though the glass was 116 degrees in the shade.

At the end of the third month, Riley was sinking fast, and had begun
to realize that he was very sick.