"I received your letter," said Mr. Murdstone, "and thought it best to see you personally about this unhappy boy who has run away from his friends and his position. I need not tell you that he has always given us great trouble and uneasiness. He is sullen and stubborn and has a violent temper. I thought it best that you should know this."
"It can hardly be necessary for me to confirm anything stated by my brother," said Miss Murdstone; "but I beg to observe, that, of all the boys in the world, I believe this is the worst boy."
"Strong!" said my aunt, shortly.
"But not at all too strong for the facts," returned Miss Murdstone.
"Ha!" said my aunt. "Well, sir?"
"Upon the death of his mother," continued Mr. Murdstone, scowling, "I obtained a respectable place for him—"
"Was it the sort of place you would have put a boy of your own in?" asked my aunt.
"If he had been my brother's own boy," returned Miss Murdstone, striking in, "his character, I trust, would have been altogether different."
"Or if the poor child, his mother, had been alive, he would still have gone into the respectable business, would he?" said my aunt.
"I believe," said Mr. Murdstone, with a nod of his head, "that Clara would have disputed nothing which myself and my sister were agreed was for the best."