of speaking. The villagers were in the habit
of saying that Wilfred had the brains of the family, while I had the
heart. Anyhow, he could always outwit me, and if ever we were matched
against each other, I, in the long run, always came off second best.

A few days later I was able to be out again, and once more lived my
old, free, untrammelled life. My father and I still continued friends
and companions; but Wilfred was little with me. I noticed, however,
that he was always anxious to please me. He ceased to sneer when
speaking of me, and I thought he looked sad and downhearted. This made
me gentle and forbearing towards him; so much so, that I often went out
of my way to help him.

I often thought of old Deborah Teague's words as to whether he were or
were not my brother; but I could find no answer to my questionings.
That we both had the same father I did not doubt; but was his mother my
mother? Was that tall, stately woman who always treated me so coldly
really and truly my mother? I asked old Deborah again and again, but
my father I dared not ask.

My mother's demeanour to me was always the same. I never had a
mother's cares, never realised a mother's love, and so I could do no
other than to watch, even as old Deborah told me to watch.

Ruth Morton and I did not become friendly. Evidently she did not like
me. I noticed that she looked at me furtively, and would never be
alone with me by choice. I could not help feeling that in some way her
mind had been poisoned concerning me, and I was not long in deciding
who was the poisoner.

It is true that I did not try to win her liking.

I felt it rather hard that she should treat me so harshly, and so I
never forced my company upon her.

This state of things existed for nearly two years. Wilfred was
friendly, and, evidently, beloved by her, but I was disliked. Often my
brother took her and my sisters for long walks, but I never did. I was
busy on my father's estate and learning the secrets of agriculture,
while he in the hours not devoted to study would be away with them, and
became, I thought, more than ever a favourite with Ruth and my sisters.

During these two years I had become quite a man in stature, while
Wilfred had likewise grown to be a tall, handsome fellow. I remember
that all this time my mother encouraged the growing friendship of Ruth
and Wilfred, and seemed delighted when she noticed her evident dislike
for me.

I was now twenty.