ly
obliterate his hate of me. He's bad all through, I'm afraid."

"No he isn't--far from it. That's the point," she argued. "These things
are a legacy--a hateful legacy from his grandmother. Mister Churchouse
knows him far better than anybody else, and he says there is great
sensibility and power of feeling in him. He's tender to animals."

"That's not much good if he's going to be tough to me. Tell me why his
mother doesn't come to me about him."

"Mister Churchouse says she's in a strange state and doesn't seem to
care. She told him the sins of the fathers were being visited on the
children."

"The sins of the fathers are being visited on the fathers, I should
think."

"That's fair at any rate," she said. "I know just how you must feel.
You've been so patient, Ray, and taken such a lot of trouble. But I
believe it's all part of the fate that links you to the child. His
future is made your business now, whether you will or no. It is thrust
upon you. Nobody but you would be listened to by the law; but you can
give an undertaking and do something to save him from the horror of a
reformatory."

Estelle and Raymond were having tea together at 'The Seven Stars' during
this conversation. Her father was returning home to Bridport by an
evening train and she had driven to meet him. Nelly Legg waited upon
them, and knowing the matter occupied many tongues, Raymond spoke to
her.

"You can guess this is a puzzler, Nelly," he said. "What would you do?
Miss Waldron says it's up to me to try and get the boy off; but the
question is shall I be serving him best that way?"

"My husband and me have gone over it," she confessed; "of course,
everybody has done so. You can't pretend the people aren't interested,
and if one has asked Job his opinion, a hundred have. People bring him
their puzzles and troubles as a sort of habit. From a finger ache to the
loss of a fortune they pour their difficulties into his wise head, and
for patience he's a very good second to the first of the name. And I may
tell you a curious thing, Mister Raymond, for I've seen it happen. As
the folks talk and talk to Legg, they get more and more cheerful and he
gets more and more depressed. Then, after they've let off all their woes
on the man, sometimes they'll have the grace to apologise and say it's
too bad to give him such a dose. And they always wind up by assuring him
he's done them a world of good; but they never stop to think what they
have done to