before her, the very image of her mother. And with me 'twas
just the other way about; and I was main fond of the poor young mother; a
sweet, gentle creature she was--a quiet dove, not a brave hawk like
little Rhoda. I wished the little thing could have shared with ours heart
and home; but that the wife could not have abided, the man being amongst
us too. But I went and managed so that none can cast up on Rhoda as a
pauper foundling.

'Lad, as I would like you to think well of me when I am gone, God knows I
can ill afford to have more than is due stand against me; so look you,
lad, I was not such a wastrel as you had cause for thinking. I don't deny
what may have been in old days before, but for a good seventeen year when
I have gone off for a fling now and then, Rhoda has been the better for
it, not I the worse. It has been hard on the wife, and I own I have done
a deal of cheating by her and by you too, and have stinted you unfairly.
There, there, hold your tongue, and let me start fair again.

'After our child was taken from us, and the poor wife took on so for our
blame, it was borne in on me that the rightest amending was not far to
seek; and I put it to her at last. But I spoke too soon, when her hurts
were quick and raw, and she could not bear it. She was crazy-like then,
and I put my notion by for a bit. You see, it was like this: I reckoned
the fatal misdoing was unchristian rancour against the father, and care
for his deserted child should best express contrition. But the wife
couldn't look that way--and she got from the Book awful things to say
against the wicked man and his children; and all she repented on was her
wrong ways, in neglect of right worship to affront the man; and I think
in her heart she cursed him more bitter than ever. A penance it would
have been to her to do violence to her griefs and indignations by taking
up the child; but it would have righted her as nothing else could, and
that I knew, and I looked to bring her to it yet. For me, well, I was on
other ground before then, and more than once Rhoda's baby hand had closed
upon my finger, ay, upon my heart, though then she was not like my own.
And that in a way made me slack to drive against the grain, when with me
the point ran smooth and sweet.

'Now, Christian, what came next?'

The old man had been very slow with his tale, watching his listener
intently all the while to be sure he heeded and understood. Christian
shook his head, but th