ght raise Cain over it,
another only laugh, another send him packing. He didn't want to let a
fine young woman like Matilda slip if he could help it, by dad he
didn't! But he felt he must either win her by fair dealing or not at
all. And having got the load off his chest, the old colonist swallowed
hard, and ran the back of his hand over his forehead.

He had kept his eyes glued to the table-leg in speaking, and so saw
neither his hearer's involuntary start at the damaging disclosure, nor
the nervous tightening of the hand that lay along the arm of the chair.
Mahony sat silent, balancing a paper-knife, and fighting down a feeling
of extraordinary discomfort--his very finger-tips curled under the
strain. It was of little use to remind himself that, ever since he had
known him, Ocock had led a decent, God-fearing life, respected both in
his business relations and by his brethren of the chapel. Nor could he
spare more than a glance in passing for those odd traits in the old
man's character which were now explained: his itch for public approval;
his unvarying harshness towards the pair of incorrigibles who weighed
him down. At this moment he discounted even the integrity that had
prompted the confession. His attitude of mind was one of: why the deuce
couldn't the old fool have held his tongue?

Oh, these unbidden, injudicious confidences! How they complicated life!
And as a doctor he was pestered with only too many; he was continually
being forced to see behind the scenes. Now, outsiders, too, must needs
choose him for the storehouse of their privacies. Himself he never made
a confidence; but it seemed as though just this buttoned-upness on his
part loosened people's tongues. Blind to the flags of warning he
hoisted in looks and bearing, they innocently proceeded, as Ocock had
done, to throw up insurmountable barriers. He could hear a new tone in
his own voice when he replied, and was relieved to know the old man
dull of perception. For now Ocock had finished speaking, and sat
perspiring with anxiety to learn his fate. Mahony pulled himself
together; he could, in good faith, tender the advice to let the dead
past bury its dead. Whatever the original fault had been--no, no,
please! ... and he raised an arresting hand--it was, he felt sure, long
since fully atoned. And Mr. Ocock had said a true word: women were
strange creatures. The revelation of his secret might shipwreck his
late-found happiness. It also, of course, might