o hears,' said Charles; 'I say there is no greater
misery in this world than to have the spirit of a man and the limbs of a
cripple. I know if I was good for anything, things would not long be in
this state. I should be at St. Mildred's by this time, at the bottom of
the whole story, and Philip would be taught to eat his words in no time,
and make as few wry faces as suited his dignity. But what is the use of
talking? This sofa'--and he struck his fist against it--'is my prison,
and I am a miserable cripple, and it is mere madness in me to think of
being attended to.'

'O Charlie!' cried Amy, caressingly, and much distressed, 'don't talk
so. Indeed, I can't bear it! You know it is not so.'

'Do I? Have not I been talking myself hoarse, showing up their
injustice, saying all a man could say to bring them to reason, and not
an inch could I move them. I do believe Philip has driven my father
stark mad with these abominable stories of his sister's, which I verily
believe she invented herself.'

'O no, she could not. Don't say so.'

'What! Are you going to believe them, too?'

'Never!'

'It is that which drives me beyond all patience,' proceeded Charles, 'to
see Philip lay hold of my father, and twist him about as he chooses, and
set every one down with his authority.'

'Philip soon goes abroad,' said Amy, who could not at the moment say
anything more charitable.

'Ay! there is the hope. My father will return to his natural state
provided they don't drive Guy, in the meantime, to do something
desperate.'

'No, they won't,' whispered Amy.

'Well, give me the blotting-book. I'll write to him this moment, and
tell him we are not all the tools of Philip's malice.'

Amy gave the materials to her brother, and then turning away, busied
herself in silence as best she might, in the employment her mother had
recommended her, of sorting some garden-seeds for the cottagers. After
an interval, Charles said,

'Well, Amy, what shall I say to him for you?'

There was a little silence, and presently Amy whispered, 'I don't think
I ought.'

'What?' asked Charles, not catching her very low tones, as she sat
behind him, with her head bent down.

'I don't think it would be right,' she repeated, more steadily.

'Not right for you to say you don't think him a villain?'

'Papa said I was to have no--'and there her voice was stopped with
tears.

'This is absurd, Amy,' said Charles; 'when it all was approved at first,
and now