e tell my age! You
ought to blush for shame."

Her uncle patted her firm, round cheek. "Never a blush, my dear! You
bear even your advanced age with quite sufficient ease and grace. But
now about this young Cameron," he continued, assuming a sternly judicial
tone.

"All I ask for him is a chance," said his niece earnestly.

"A chance? Why he will get every chance the law allows to clear
himself."

"There you are!" exclaimed Miss Bessie, in a despairing tone. "That's
the way the lawyers and your manager talk. They coolly and without a
qualm get him arrested, this young boy who has never in all his life
shown any sign of criminal tendency. These horrid lawyers display their
dreadful astuteness and ability in catching a lad who never tries to run
away, and your manager pleads the rules of the Bank. The rules! Fancy
rules against a young boy's whole life!"

Her uncle rather winced at this.

"And like a lot of sheep they follow each other in a circle; there is
absolutely no independence, no initiative. Why, they even went so far as
to suggest that you could do nothing, that you were bound by rules and
must follow like the rest of them; but I told them I knew better."

"Ah!" said Sir Archibald in his most dignified manner. "I trust I have a
mind of my own, but--"

"Exactly! So I said to Mr. Dunn. 'Rules or no rules,' I said, 'my
uncle will do the fair thing.' And I know you will," cried Miss Brodie
triumphantly. "And if you look at it, there's a very big chance that the
boy never did the thing, and certainly if he did it at all it was when
he was quite incapable. Oh, I know quite well what the lawyers say. They
go by the law,--they've got to,--but you--and--and--I go by the--the
real facts of the case." Sir Archibald coughed gently. "I mean to
say--well you know, Uncle, quite well, you can tell what a man is
by--well, by his game."

"His game!"

"And by his eye."

"His eye! And his eye is--?"

"Now, Uncle, be sensible! I mean to say, if you could only see him. Oh,
I shall bring him to see you!" she cried, with a sudden inspiration.

Sir Archibald held up a deprecating hand. "Do not, I beg."

"Well, Uncle, you can trust my judgment, you know you can. You would
trust me in--in--" For a moment Miss Brodie was at a loss; then her eyes
fell upon the grunting, comfortable old mother pig with her industrious
litter. "Well, don't I know good Wiltshires when I see them?"

"Quite true," replied her uncle solemnly; "