be recognised as such.

Perhaps--who knows?--if he had had any friends who would have given him
a helping hand, it might never have come to this. But, in the first
place, Hardy had no home that could be called a home. His mother was
fond of him in her way; but she was now a hysterical invalid, abject
under the influence of her second husband, and year by year his
step-father's jealousy (the jealousy of a childless man) had driven the
mother and son further apart. Of the Havilands, whom he would naturally
have turned to, he had seen nothing for the last few months. Ted
disliked meeting him, and he on his part was equally anxious to avoid
Ted. That was how Katherine remained ignorant of the truth until she was
enlightened by Mrs. Rogers.

"It yn't _my_ business," said that excellent woman, as she began to dust
the studio one morning, in the leisurely manner that Katherine dreaded,
it being the invariable forerunner of conversation, "and I don't know
who's business it is, but somebody ought to look after that Mr. 'Ardy.
'Is friends ought to be written to, m'm."

Katherine felt a pang of remorse.

"Why? Is Mr. Hardy ill?"

"I didn't say he was ill. But if I was to tell _you_, miss----"

Here Mrs. Rogers pursed her lips, not so much to impress Katherine with
her incorruptible discretion, as to excite interest in the disclosures
she meant to make.

"Between you and me, m'm, if somebody don't stop 'im, 'ell drink
'imself to death down there some o' these days."

"What do you mean? It's quite impossible--I've known Mr. Hardy all my
life."

"I've known 'im three months; and if I wasn't that soft-'earted, I
wouldn't keep 'im a day longer, not a day I wouldn't. 'E won't sleep in
'is bed like a Christian--lies on top all of a heap like. Last week,
when I was a-cleanin' out his bottom cupboard, the brandy bottles was
standin' up like a row o' ninepins. This mornin' they was lyin' down
flat as your fyce--empty, m'm, every one of 'em. It did give me a turn.
And 'e'll order 'is dinner for eight o'clock, and not come 'ome till two
in the mornin'--if 'e comes 'ome at all. 'E's out now Lord knows where."

"I don't want to hear any more. You're very likely mistaken."

"I wish I was, miss. But you'll not deceive me, I'm that upset with it
all. And my fear is, miss, 'e'll drive away my old lydy on the first
floor, with 'is goings on."

Katherine left the room, too deeply grieved to bear Mrs. Rogers's
professional loquacity.