Mr. Prettyman, looking at his
neighbour Freely rather sharply.

"All men are our brothers, and idiots particular so," said Mr. Freely,
who, like many other travelled men, was not master of the English
language.

"Come, come, if he's your brother, tell the truth, man," said Mr.
Prettyman, with growing suspicion. "Don't be ashamed of your own flesh
and blood."

Mr. Palfrey was present, and also had his eye on Freely. It is difficult
for a man to believe in the advantage of a truth which will disclose him
to have been a liar. In this critical moment, David shrank from this
immediate disgrace in the eyes of his future father-in-law.

"Mr. Prettyman," he said, "I take your observations as an insult. I've
no reason to be otherwise than proud of my own flesh and blood. If this
poor man was my brother more than all men are, I should say so."

A tall figure darkened the door, and David, lifting his eyes in that
direction, saw his eldest brother, Jonathan, on the door-sill.

"I'll stay wi' Zavy," shouted Jacob, as he, too, caught sight of his
eldest brother; and, running behind the counter, he clutched David hard.

"What, he _is_ here?" said Jonathan Faux, coming forward. "My mother
would have no nay, as he'd been away so long, but I must see after him.
And it struck me he was very like come after you, because we'd been
talking of you o' late, and where you lived."

David saw there was no escape; he smiled a ghastly smile.

"What! is this a relation of yours, sir?" said Mr. Palfrey to Jonathan.

"Aye, it's my innicent of a brother, sure enough," said honest Jonathan.
"A fine trouble and cost he is to us, in th' eating and other things, but
we must bear what's laid on us."

"And your name's Freely, is it?" said Mr. Prettyman.

"Nay, nay, my name's Faux, I know nothing o' Freelys," said Jonathan,
curtly. "Come," he added, turning to David, "I must take some news to
mother about Jacob. Shall I take him with me, or will you undertake to
send him back?"

"Take him, if you can make him loose his hold of me," said David, feebly.

"Is this gentleman here in the confectionery line your brother, then,
sir?" said Mr. Prettyman, feeling that it was an occasion on which format
language must be used.

"_I_ don't want to own him," said Jonathan, unable to resist a movement
of indignation that had never been allowed to satisfy itself. "He ran
away from home with good reasons in his pocket years ago: he didn't want
to