l
tell you everything. It began years ago--when Eddy was only a tot in
jumpers. It used to amuse my husband to see him toss off a glass of
wine like a grown-up person; and it WAS comical, when he sipped it, and
smacked his lips. But then he grew to like it, and to ask for it, and
be cross when he was refused. And then... then he learnt how to get it
for himself. And when his father saw I was upset about it, he egged him
on--gave it to him on the sly.--Oh, he is a bad man, doctor, a BAD,
cruel man! He says such wicked things, too. He doesn't believe in God,
or that it is wrong to take one's own life, and he says he never wanted
children. He jeers at me because I am fond of Eddy, and because I go to
church when I can, and says ... oh, I know I am not clever, but I am
not quite such a fool as he makes me out to be. He speaks to me as if I
were the dirt under his feet. He can't bear the sight of me. I have
heard him curse the day he first saw me. And so he's only too glad to
be able to come between my boy and me ... in any way he can."

Mahony led the weeping woman back to the dining-room. There he sat
long, patiently listening and advising; sat, till Mrs. Glendinning had
dried her eyes and was her charming self once more.

The gist of what he said was, the boy must be removed from home at
once, and placed in strict, yet kind hands.

Here, however, he ran up against a weak maternal obstinacy. "Oh, but I
couldn't part from Eddy. He is all I have.... And so devoted to his
mammy."

As Mahony insisted, she looked the picture of helplessness. "But I
should have no idea how to set about it. And my husband would put every
possible obstacle in the way."

"With your permission I will arrange the matter myself."

"Oh, how kind you are!" cried Mrs. Glendinning again. "But mind,
doctor, it must be somewhere where Eddy will lack none of the comforts
he is accustomed to, and where his poor mammy can see him whenever she
wishes. Otherwise he will fret himself ill."

Mahony promised to do his best to satisfy her, and declining, very
curtly, the wine she pressed on him, went out to mount his horse which
had been brought round.

Following him on to the verandah, Mrs. Glendinning became once more the
pretty woman frankly concerned for her appearance. "I don't know how I
look, I'm sure," she said apologetically, and raised both hands to her
hair. "Now I will go and rest for an hour. There is to be opossuming
and a moonlight picnic to