ther, on the contrary, has no weight of sadness on his mind; is
troubled with no fears, no scruples concerning his son's future welfare;
and at evenings especially, the times when the child sees him the most
and the oftenest, he is always particularly jocund and open-hearted:
ready to laugh and to jest with anything or anybody but me, and I am
particularly silent and sad: therefore, of course, the child dotes upon
his seemingly joyous amusing, ever-indulgent papa, and will at any time
gladly exchange my company for his. This disturbs me greatly; not so
much for the sake of my son's affection (though I do prize that highly,
and though I feel it is my right, and know I have done much to earn it)
as for that influence over him which, for his own advantage, I would
strive to purchase and retain, and which for very spite his father
delights to rob me of, and, from motives of mere idle egotism, is pleased
to win to himself; making no use of it but to torment me and ruin the
child. My only consolation is, that he spends comparatively little of
his time at home, and, during the months he passes in London or
elsewhere, I have a chance of recovering the ground I had lost, and
overcoming with good the evil he has wrought by his wilful mismanagement.
But then it is a bitter trial to behold him, on his return, doing his
utmost to subvert my labours and transform my innocent, affectionate,
tractable darling into a selfish, disobedient, and mischievous boy;
thereby preparing the soil for those vices he has so successfully
cultivated in his own perverted nature.

Happily, there were none of Arthur's 'friends' invited to Grassdale last
autumn: he took himself off to visit some of them instead. I wish he
would always do so, and I wish his friends were numerous and loving
enough to keep him amongst them all the year round. Mr. Hargrave,
considerably to my annoyance, did not go with him; but I think I have
done with that gentleman at last.

For seven or eight months he behaved so remarkably well, and managed so
skilfully too, that I was almost completely off my guard, and was really
beginning to look upon him as a friend, and even to treat him as such,
with certain prudent restrictions (which I deemed scarcely necessary);
when, presuming upon my unsuspecting kindness, he thought he might
venture to overstep the bounds of decent moderation and propriety that
had so long restrained him. It was on a pleasant evening at the close of
May: