ter is going to talk to you. She knows that you have more
influence with me than any one else. It's true, Darsie, whatever you
may think--I should have drifted a lot deeper but for you. When she
does, do your best for a fellow! They'll be down on me for not having
told about this debt. The Governor asked if there was anything else,
but upon my word I hadn't the courage to own up at that moment."

Still Darsie did not reply. She was wondering drearily what she could
find to say when the dreaded interview came about; shrinking from the
thought of adding to the mother's pain, feeling a paralysing sense of
defeat; yet, at this very moment of humiliation, a ray of light
illumined the darkness and showed the reason of her failure.

Dan was right! no one could truly help a man without first implanting in
his heart the wish to help himself! She had been content to bribe
Ralph, as a spoiled child is bribed to be good; had felt a glow of
gratified vanity in the knowledge that her own favour was the prize to
be won. If the foundations of her buildings were unstable, what wonder
that the edifice had fallen to the ground? The thought softened her
heart towards the handsome culprit by her side, and when she spoke at
last it was in blame of herself rather than of him.

"I'm sorry, too, Ralph. I might have helped you better. I rushed in
where angels fear to tread. I gave you a wrong motive. It should have
been more than a question of pleasing me--more even than pleasing your
parents... Oh, Ralph, dear, you know--you know there is something
higher than that!--Is religion nothing to you, Ralph? Don't you feel
that in wasting your life you are offending against God--against Christ!
Can't you try again with _that_ motive to help you?--I can't make light
of things to your people, but I can take part of the blame on myself.
If it is true that I have any influence over you, I have thrown it
away..."

Ralph laid his hand over the gloved fingers clasped together on Darsie's
knee.

"Don't say that! Don't think that, Darsie. I may be a rotter, but I'd
have been a hundred times worse if it hadn't been for you. And don't
exaggerate the position: it's a pity to do that. Every man isn't born a
Dan Vernon. Most fellows only reach that stage of sobriety when they
are middle-aged. It would be a pretty dull world if no one kicked over
the traces now and then in their youth. What have I done, after all?
Slacked my work, helped m