"It did seem cruel, as you say, horribly cruel!" Mr. Selincourt said, a grey hardness spreading over his kindly face, as if the memory of the bitter past was more than he could bear. "The two years that followed were crammed with poverty and privation; there was almost constant sickness in the home, and I could get no work except occasional jobs of manual labour, at which any drayman or navvy could have beaten me easily, by reason of superior strength. I left Bristol and went to Cardiff, hoping that I might lose my want of a character in the crowd. But it was of no use. 'Give a dog a bad name and hang him', is one of the truest proverbs we've got. What is the matter, child?" he asked, as an involuntary sob broke from poor Katherine.
"Nothing, nothing; only I am so sorry for you!" she cried, breaking down a little, in spite of her efforts after self-control.
"You need not be, as you will hear in a moment; and, at any rate, I don't look much like an object of pity," he said, with a laugh. "I was on the docks one winter evening, wet, dark, and late, when I saw a man robbed of his purse. I chased the thief, collared the purse, and took it back to its owner, who proved to be one of the richest merchants of the town. He wanted to give me money. I told him that I wanted work. I told him, too, about my damaged reputation, and my inability to clear myself."
"Did he believe you?" she asked eagerly.
"He did; or if he didn't then, he did afterwards. Years later he admitted that for the first twelve months of my time with him he paid to have me watched; but that was really to my advantage, as I came scatheless through the ordeal."
"It was really good of him to take so much interest in you," said
Katherine.
"So I have always felt," Mr. Selincourt answered. "Christopher Ray stood to me for employer and friend. In course of time he became still more, for he gave me his daughter, Mary's mother, and when he died he left me his wealth."
"It was not all a misfortune for you, then, that for a time you had to live under a cloud," said Katherine eagerly.
"Rightly speaking it was not misfortune, but good fortune that came to me when I lost position and character at one blow. I have often thought that perhaps I owed my downfall to someone who either said about me what was not true, or kept silent when a word might have put me straight; but, if so, that person was my very good friend, and it is to him, or to her, that I owe the first step to the success which came after."
Poor Katherine! One desperate effort she made after self-control, but it was of no use, and, covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.