ith you
some day. Cursed be them that oppress the poor and needy; it is one of
the seven deadly sins."

"Those green laths on your back are the remainder of my garden gate,"
he said. "You took the first half last Saturday. Next time you want fuel
come to the house and ask for coals, and let my gates alone. I suppose
you can enjoy a fire without stealing the combustibles. Stow pay me for
my gate by telling me something I want to know."

"And a kind gentleman too, sir; blessings."

"What is the hemlock good for?"

"The hemlock, kind gentleman? For the evil, sir, to be sure."

"Scrofulous ulcers!" he exclaimed, recoiling. "The father of that
beautiful girl!" He turned homeward, and trudged along with his
head bent, muttering, "All rotten to the bone. Oh, civilization!
civilization! civilization!"

CHAPTER XIV

"What has come over Gertrude?" said Agatha one day to Lady Brandon.

"Why? Is anything the matter with her?"

"I don't know; she has not been the same since she poisoned herself.
And why did she not tell about it? But for Trefusis we should never have
known."

"Gertrude always made secrets of things."

"She was in a vile temper for two days after; and now she is quite
changed. She falls into long reveries, and does not hear a word of
what is going on around. Then she starts into life again, and begs your
pardon with the greatest sweetness for not catching what you have said."

"I hate her when she is polite; it is not natural to her. As to her
going to sleep, that is the effect of the hemlock. We know a man who
took a spoonful of strychnine in a bath, and he never was the same
afterwards."

"I think she is making up her mind to encourage Erskine," said Agatha.
"When I came here he hardly dared speak to her--at least, she always
snubbed him. Now she lets him talk as much as he likes, and actually
sends him on messages and allows him to carry things for her."

"Yes. I never saw anybody like Gertrude in my life. In London, if men
were attentive to her, she sat on them for being officious; and if they
let her alone she was angry at being neglected. Erskine is quite good
enough for her, I think."

Here Erskine appeared at the door and looked round the room.

"She's not here," said Jane.

"I am seeking Sir Charles," he said, withdrawing somewhat stiffly.

"What a lie!" said Jane, discomfited by his reception of her jest. "He
was talking to Sir Charles ten minutes ago in the billiard room. Men are