“Why?”
“O, I don’t know. They didn’t treat his father well. His father was curate of the place.”
“As far as I’ve seen, Fuzby isn’t singular in that respect. It’s no easy thing in most places for a poor clergyman to keep on good terms with his people.”
“Yes; but Ken’s father does seem to have been abominably treated.” And Walter proceeded to tell Power the parts of Mr Kenrick’s history which Kenrick had told him.
When he had finished the story he observed that Eden had shut up his book and was listening intently.
“Hallo, Arty,” said Walter, “I didn’t mean you to hear.”
“Didn’t you? I’m so sorry. I really didn’t know you meant to be talking secrets, for you weren’t talking particularly low.”
“The noise of the waves prevents that. But never mind; I don’t suppose it’s any secret. Ken never told me not to mention it. Only, of course, you mustn’t tell any one, you know, as it clearly isn’t a thing to be talked about.”
“No,” said Eden; “I won’t mention it, of course. So other people have unhappy homes as well as me,” he added in a low tone.
“What, isn’t your home happy, Arty?” asked Power.