orrect his vices, but ineffectually. And
I have felt--we both have felt, I may say; my sister being fully in
my confidence--that it is right you should receive this grave and
dispassionate assurance from our lips.'

'It can hardly be necessary for me to confirm anything stated by my
brother,' said Miss Murdstone; 'but I beg to observe, that, of all the
boys in the world, I believe this is the worst boy.'

'Strong!' said my aunt, shortly.

'But not at all too strong for the facts,' returned Miss Murdstone.

'Ha!' said my aunt. 'Well, sir?'

'I have my own opinions,' resumed Mr. Murdstone, whose face darkened
more and more, the more he and my aunt observed each other, which they
did very narrowly, 'as to the best mode of bringing him up; they are
founded, in part, on my knowledge of him, and in part on my knowledge of
my own means and resources. I am responsible for them to myself, I act
upon them, and I say no more about them. It is enough that I place this
boy under the eye of a friend of my own, in a respectable business;
that it does not please him; that he runs away from it; makes himself a
common vagabond about the country; and comes here, in rags, to appeal
to you, Miss Trotwood. I wish to set before you, honourably, the exact
consequences--so far as they are within my knowledge--of your abetting
him in this appeal.'

'But about the respectable business first,' said my aunt. 'If he had
been your own boy, you would have put him to it, just the same, I
suppose?'

'If he had been my brother's own boy,' returned Miss Murdstone, striking
in, 'his character, I trust, would have been altogether different.'

'Or if the poor child, his mother, had been alive, he would still have
gone into the respectable business, would he?' said my aunt.

'I believe,' said Mr. Murdstone, with an inclination of his head,
'that Clara would have disputed nothing which myself and my sister Jane
Murdstone were agreed was for the best.'

Miss Murdstone confirmed this with an audible murmur.

'Humph!' said my aunt. 'Unfortunate baby!'

Mr. Dick, who had been rattling his money all this time, was rattling it
so loudly now, that my aunt felt it necessary to check him with a look,
before saying:

'The poor child's annuity died with her?'

'Died with her,' replied Mr. Murdstone.

'And there was no settlement of the little property--the house and
garden--the what's-its-name Rookery without any rooks in it--upon her
boy?'

'It had