so long as that, surely," and then Olivia looked at him with
kindly gravity. "Why, you could only have been a boy when you left
home."

"I am older than you think, Mrs. Luttrell--I shall soon be
eight-and-twenty--but I was young enough, certainly, when they shunted
me off. Confession may be good for the soul," he went on, with a
reckless laugh; "but it is not particularly pleasant. As I told your
husband, I quarrelled with my people. It was my own fault in a great
measure; but I do not mean to take all the blame; if they had treated
me differently, things would not have come to this; but this is all
ancient history; if a man sows thistles he must expect a harvest of the
same. I have had my evil things certainly, and perhaps I deserved
them."

"And you wish now that you had acted differently;" then such a look of
intense pain crossed Robert Barton's face that Olivia was quite
startled.

"I would give my right hand if those months could be blotted out," he
said, vehemently. "You know the proverb, Mrs. Luttrell--'Give a dog a
bad name, and hang him'--well, they were for hanging me, I mean
figuratively, so I took the bit between my teeth and bolted."

"It seems to me, Mr. Barton," she said, thoughtfully, "that your one
chance to retrieve the past is to find out your own people. I
suppose"--hesitating a little--"that they are in a position to help
you?"

"Most certainly they are; we lived mostly abroad, but always in good
style; the house we had at Medhurst was only taken on lease for a short
time; it was my father's fancy never to stay long in one place; he was
fond of travelling; when I am strong enough to brave the weather, I
will go down to Medhurst and hunt up an acquaintance or two; there must
be someone who knew him; but the doctor will not give me leave yet."

"Did my husband say anything to you about the future?" asked Olivia,
tentatively; then Robert Barton's face, that had grown suddenly old and
haggard, brightened up.

"He told me some old gentleman, a friend of yours, had been awfully
kind, and that he would be able to take a room for me for a month, and
get me some canvas and colours. If I only had my tools, I could take a
sketch of your little girl at once, just as she is now with the kitten.
I could call it 'Play-fellows,' just a small thing, you know, but it
would be sure to take. I do not paint badly, although I have not made
my mark yet, but I have sold two or three small pictures beside