on he had once, during a
week of humiliation, fought his way stubbornly through Tupper's
'Proverbial Philosophy.' But it was the rampant fiction that influenced
him most directly. He took his romance very seriously; his vivid
sympathies were always with the poor persecuted pirate driven to lawless
courses by systematic oppression at school, or by a cold proud father's
failure to appreciate the humour of his youthful villainies. The
bushranger, too, urged from milder courses of crime by the persecutions
of the police, found in Dick a devoted friend. It never occurred to the
boy that the excuses given were anything but adequate and satisfactory
justification for pillage and arson and homicide.

On leaving Dick's room, Mrs. Haddon locked the door very carefully and
quietly. She suspected that he was planning mischief that would lead to
further trouble, and hoped that by next morning he would be in a frame of
mind to be won over by a little motherly strategy. But she went about her
work with a heavy heart. Later she took the impenitent young 'duffer' a
tea cunningly designed to appeal to his rebellious heart, and spread it
neatly on the big dimity-covered box in his bedroom; but Dick was
implacable.

In the evening the widow had a visitor in whom she could confide without
reservation. Christina Shine had called about her new dress for the
Sunday School anniversary, and the weakest and most indulgent of mothers
could not have wished for a more sympathetic confidant than big Miss
Chris, who saved all her tears for other people's troubles.

'You know, dear,' murmured Mrs. Haddon. 'I can't change Dickie's nature.
He's wild, an' he thinks he's all kinds of ridiculous people, an' they
lead him into mischief.'

'Poor Dick! I shouldn't have let them beat him,' said Chris, flushing
with indignation.

'An' he just as eager for good, you know,' continued the widow, 'but then
nobody makes any fuss over him when he does something really creditable.'

Chris nodded her head reproachfully. 'Even father forgets,' she said.

Miss Chris had enormous faith in her father and a great affection for
him, and his want of consideration for the boy who she believed had saved
him from much suffering, if not a slow and terrible death, was a trait in
his character that gave her a good deal of concern.

'Dickie thinks a lot of you, Christina,' said Mrs. Haddon. 'P'r'aps if
you went an' spoke a few words with him he might be persuaded to overlook