e fatal defect in his education has
been the want of what you grow, chiefly in West India perhaps--the
cane, Duncan, the sugar-cane. I have read all about it; you can tell me
nothing. You suck it, you smoke it, and you beat your children with it."

"Well," said Sir Duncan, who was not quite sure, in the face of such
authority, "I disremember; but perhaps they do in some parts, because
the country is so large. But it is not the ignorance of Pet I care
for--such a fault is natural and unavoidable; and who is there to pick
holes in it? The boy knows a great deal more than I did at his age,
because he is so much younger. But, Philippa, unless you do something
with him, he will never be a gentleman."

"Duncan, you are hard. You have seen so much."

"The more we see, the softer we become. The one thing we harden against
is lying--the seed, the root, and the substance of all vileness. I am
sorry to say your Pet is a liar."

"He does not always tell the truth, I know. But bear in mind, Duncan,
that his mother did not insist--and, in fact, she does not herself
always--"

"I know it; I am grieved that it should come from our side. I never
cared for his father much, because he went against me; but this I will
say for him, Lance Carnaby would sooner cut his tongue out that put it
to a lie. When I am at home, my dealings are with fellows who could
not speak the truth if they tried for dear life, simply through want
of practice. They are like your lower class of horse-dealers, but with
infinitely more intelligence. It is late to teach poor Pet the first of
all lessons; and for me to stop to do it is impossible. But will you try
to save further disgrace to a scapegrace family, but not a mean one?"

"I feel it as much as you do--perhaps more," Miss Yordas answered,
forgetting altogether about the deed-box and her antiquary. "You need
not tell me how very sad it is. But how can it be cured? His mother is
his mother. She never would part with him; and her health is delicate."

"Stronger than either yours or mine, unless she takes too much
nourishment. Philippa, her will is mere petulance. For her own good, we
must set it aside. And if you agree with me, it can be done. He must go
into a marching regiment at once, ordered abroad, with five shillings in
his pocket, earn his pay, and live upon it. This patched-up peace will
never last six months. The war must be fought out till France goes down,
or England. I can get him a commission