licted from birth on any baby unlawfully born in England.

Mr. Churchouse had instructed her in this matter, and she asked Raymond
if he could find it in his heart to allow the child of their common love
and worship to come into the world unrecognised by the world, deprived
of recognition and human rights.

He answered the letter vaguely and Mr. Churchouse read a gleam of hope
into his words, but neither Sabina nor her mother were able to do so.
For he spoke only of recognising his responsibilities and paternal duty.
He bade her fear nothing for the child, or herself, and assured her that
her future would be his care and first obligation as long as he lived.

In these assertions Mr. Churchouse saw a wakening dawn, but Mary Dinnett
declared otherwise. The man was widening the gap; his original idea,
that Sabina should live with him, had dearly been abandoned.

Then the contradictions of human nature appeared, and Mary, who had been
the first to declare her deep indignation at Raymond's cynical proposal,
began to weaken and even wonder if Sabina had done wisely not to discuss
that matter.

"Not that ever you should have done it," she hastened to add; "but if
you'd been a bit crafty and not ruled it out altogether, you might have
built on it and got friendly again and gradually worked him back to his
duty."

Then Mr. Churchouse protested, in the name of righteousness, while she
argued that God helps those that help themselves, and that wickedness
should be opposed with craft. Sabina listened to them helplessly and her
last hope died out.

CHAPTER XXVI

OF HUMAN NATURE

Nicholas Roberts drove his lathes in a lofty chamber separated by wooden
walls from the great central activities of the spinning mill. Despite
the flying sparks from his emery wheels, he always kept a portrait of
Sarah Northover before him; and certain pictures of notable sportsmen
also hung with Sarah above the benches whereon Nicholas pursued his
task. His work was to put a fresh face on the wooden reels and rollers
that formed a part of the machines; for running hemp or flax will groove
the toughest wood in time, and so ruin the control of the rollers and
spoil the thread.

The wood curled away like paper before the teeth of the lathes, and the
chisels of these, in their turn, had often to be set upon spinning
stones. It was noisy work, and Nicholas now stopped his grindstone that
he might hear his own voice and that of Mr. Best, who c