You
have nice things!" with an envious sigh. "Don't you ever have more
colour than you've got now? Or perhaps it's because you're tired. You
must be quite knocked up, when I come to think of it." She dropped her
voice and glanced round cautiously. "Would you like to have a little
brandy-and-water? I've got same in my room--of course the rest don't
know anything about it, father's teetotal mad--but I keep a little for
when I'm tired and down in the mouth; and when I run out I get some
from Joseph's room. Of course, he isn't a total abstainer. I daresay
you guessed that directly you saw him to-night, and weren't taken in by
his 'late at the office' business?"
Ida looked at her in amazement, and Isabel laughed knowingly.
"Joseph goes to the theatre and plays billiards," she said, with
sisterly candour. "He works it very cleverly; he's artful, Joseph is,
and he takes father and mother in nicely; but sometimes I find a
theatre programme in his pocket, and marks of chalk on his coat. Oh, I
don't blame him! The life we lead in this house would make a cat sick.
It's like being on a tread-mill; nothing happens; it's just one dreary
round, with mother always whining and father always preaching.
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