Governor's wife proposed to herself in
parting with her daughter she never gained, and one of the secret
ends of her life was thereby not only disappointed but defeated; for
while the Duchess did nothing for Greeba, the girl's absence from
home led Adam to do the more for Michael Sunlocks. Deprived of his
immediate object of affection, his own little maiden, Adam lavished
his love on the stranger whom chance had brought to his door; being
first prompted thereto by the thought, which came only when it was
too late, that in sending Greeba away to be company to some other
child he had left poor little Sunlocks at home to be sole company to
himself.

But Michael Sunlocks soon won for himself the caresses that were once
due merely to pity of his loneliness, and Adam's heart went out to
him with the strong affection of a father. He throve, he grew--a
tall, lithe, round-limbed lad, with a smack of the man in his speech
and ways, and all the strong beauty of a vigorous woman in his face.
Year followed year, his school days came and went, he became more and
yet more the Governor's quick right hand, his pen and his memory,
even his judgment, and the staff he leaned on. It was "Michael
Sunlocks" here, and "Michael Sunlocks" there, and "Michael Sunlocks
will see to that," and "You may safely leave it to Michael Sunlocks;"
and meantime the comely and winsome lad, with man's sturdy
independence of spirit, but a woman's yearning for love, having long
found where this account lay in the house of Governor Fairbrother,
clung to that good man with more than the affection, because less
than the confidence, of a son, and like a son he stood to him.

Now, for one who found this relation sweet and beautiful, there were
many who found it false and unjust, implying an unnatural preference
of a father for a stranger before his own children; and foremost
among those who took this unfavorable view were Mrs. Fairbrother and
her sons. She blamed her husband, and they blamed Michael Sunlocks.

The six sons of Adam Fairbrother had grown into six rude men, all
big, lusty fellows, rough and hungry, seared and scarred like the
land they lived on, but differing much at many points. Asher, the
eldest, three-and-thirty when Sunlocks was fifteen, was fair, with
gray eyes, flabby face, and no chin to speak of, good-hearted, but
unstable as water. He was for letting the old man and the lad alone.
"Aisy, man, aisy, what's the odds?" he would say, in his dra