ed
his father, who was a most kind and genial man, and would have suffered
anything in silence rather than have caused him any troubles or
annoyance by complaining to him.

For his mother his feelings were altogether different. She was a kindly
and well intentioned woman, but weak and silly. On leaving school she
had gone out to join her father in India. Captain Sankey had sailed
in the same ship and, taken by her pretty face and helpless, dependent
manner, he had fallen in love with her, knowing nothing of her real
disposition, and they had been married upon their arrival at the
termination of the voyage. So loyal was his nature that it is probable
Captain Sankey never admitted even to himself that his marriage had been
a mistake; but none of his comrades ever doubted it. His wife turned out
one of the most helpless of women. Under the plea of ill health she had
at a very early period of their marriage given up all attempt to manage
the affairs of the household, and her nerves were wholly unequal to the
strain of looking after her children. It was noticeable that though her
health was unequal to the discharge of her duties, she was always well
enough to take part in any pleasure or gayety which might be going on;
and as none of the many doctors who attended her were able to discover
any specific ailment, the general opinion was that Mrs. Sankey's ill
health was the creation of her own imagination. This, however, was
not wholly the case. She was not strong; and although, had she made an
effort, she would have been able to look after her children like other
women, she had neither the disposition nor the training to make that
effort.

Her son regarded her with the sort of pity, not unmingled with contempt,
with which young people full of life and energy are apt to regard those
who are weak and ailing without having any specific disease or malady
which would account for their condition.

"All the bothers fall upon father," he would say to himself; "and if
mother did but make up her mind she could take her share in them well
enough. There was he walking about for two hours this evening with
little Lucy in his arms, because she had fallen down and hurt herself;
and there was mother lying on the sofa reading that book of poetry, as
if nothing that happened in the house was any affair of hers. She is
very nice and very kind, but I do wish she wouldn't leave everything for
father to do. It might have been all very well befor