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anything. He stood at the head of the sporting interest of S-, being
president of the golf club and the cricket club, his interests were also
apparently political, for he was a most important member of the
Conservative Club that had its palatial apartments half-way down the
High Street. He might be seen any morning of the week striding along
in a tweed jacket and large and balloon-like knicker-bockers, his face
very red, his eyes very wide and staring, his air that of a man who
knows his power and values it. "Ha, Benson!" he would say, or "Ha,
Rawlingsl" or even "Good-day to you, Bumpusl" and sometimes,
when a local infant threatened his progress "Out of the way, little one,
out of the way!"
People said, with considerable truth, that it was strange that two
brothers, who were so continually together, should be so different, but
when one knew Robin Chandler intimately one discovered that he
had been endeavouring all his days to acquire some of his brother's
habits and characteristics. He would try at times to be domineering,
hearty and monosyllabic, and of course he always failed. He had the
pleasantest of voices, but it was the voice of an amiable canary, and
he never could express himself without using a great number of
words. That Robin worshipped his brother was one of the items of
natural history treasured by the city of S-.
He had worshipped him from that day, so many years ago,
when a lonely little boy of ten, he had been informed that he was
henceforth to have a companion in life.
He had been, always, from the first a submissive character who
depended very much on other people's affection for happiness. It had
been, the ladies of S- always said, a"shamefully one-sided affair.
Harry Chandler's attitude to his brother was one of indulgent
tolerance. "Dear old fellow," he would call him. "He's an odd kind of
chap, my brother," he would confide to a listening friend. "You'd
never think we were brothers, now, would you? You should just see
him try to play golf. Stands there with his legs apart, his body stiff as
a rod, biting his lips, don't you know- serious as anything - and then
he clean misses it, you know. He's a dear old fellow, but, between you
and me, a bit of an old woman.
Robin was quite aware of his brother's attitude, but, indeed, no
other seemed possible. He had watched, with wide-eyed wonder, his
brother's growth. The things Harry could do was there anyone who
played games with such confidence, anyone who could hold his own

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