“But you seemed to be so hard and stern with him.”
“That is your weak womanly way of looking at it, my dear I may have been stern, but no more so than the matter warranted. No, my dear sister, can you not see that I mean all this as a lesson for Lindon? You know how discontented he has been with his lot, like many more boys at his time of life, when they do not judge very well as to whether they are well off.”
“Yes, he has been unsettled lately.”
“Exactly, and this is due to his connection with that ne’er-do-weel scoundrel, for whom the boy has displayed an unconquerable liking. Lindon has begged the man on again four times after he had been discharged from the yard for drunkenness and neglect.”
“I did not know this,” said Mrs Lavington. “No, I do not bring all my business troubles home. I consented because I wished Lindon to realise for himself the kind of man whose cause he advocated; but I never expected that it would be brought home to him so severely as this.”
“Then indeed, Josiah, you do not think Lindon guilty?”
“Bah! Of course not, you foolish little woman. The boy is too frank and manly, too much of a gentleman to degrade himself in such a way. Guilty? Nonsense! Guilty of being proud and obstinate and stubborn. Guilty of neglecting his work to listen to that idle scoundrel’s romancing about places he has never seen.”
“He is so young.”
“Young? Old enough to know better.”
“But if you could bring it home to him more gently.”