another time. You know I respect you very
much, Uncle Ernest; and I'm sure you'll weigh my point of view and not
let Aunt Jenny influence you."

"I have a series of duties before me," answered Mr. Churchouse; "and not
least among them is to reconcile you and your aunt. That you should have
broken with your sole remaining relative is heart-breaking."

"I'd be friends to-morrow; but you know her."

He went away to the works and Ernest took the grapes to Mrs. Dinnett.

"You'd better not let her have them, however, unless the doctor permits
it," said Mr. Churchouse, whereupon, Mary, not trusting herself to
speak, took the grapes and departed. The affront embodied in the fruit
affected a mind much overwrought of late. She took the present to
Sabina's room.

"There," she said. "He's sunk to sending that. I'd like to fling them in
his face."

"Take them away. I can't touch them."

"Touch them! And poisoned as likely as not. A man that's committed his
crimes would stick at nothing."

"He uses poison enough," said the young mother; "but only the poison he
can use safely. It matters nothing to him if I live or die. No doubt
he'd will me dead, and this child too, if he could; but seeing he can't,
he cares nothing. He'll heap insult on injury, no doubt. He's made of
clay coarse enough to do it. But when I'm well, I'll see him and make it
clear, once for all."

"You say that now. But I hope you'll never see him, or breathe the same
air with him."

"Once--when I'm strong. I don't want him to go on living his life
without knowing what I'm thinking of him. I don't want him to think he
can pose as a decent man again. I want him to know that the road-menders
and road-sweepers are high above him."

"Don't you get in a passion. He knows all that well enough. He isn't
deceiving himself any more than anybody else. All honest people know
what he is--foul wretch. Yes, he's poisoned three lives, if no more, and
they are yours and mine and that sleeping child's."

"He's ruined his aunt's life, too. She's thrown him over."

"That won't trouble him. War against women is what you'd expect. But
please God, he'll be up against a man some day--then we shall see a
different result. May the Almighty let me live long enough to see him in
the gutter, where he belongs. I ask no more."

They poured their bitterness upon Raymond Ironsyde; then a thought came
into Mary Dinnett's mind and she left Sabina. Judging the time, she put
on her bon