And though he prove unworthy,
He is my brother still,
And I must render right for wrong
And give him good for ill;
My standard must not alter
For folly, fault, or whim,
And to be true unto myself
I must be true to him.
And all men are my brothers
Wherever they may be,
And he is most my proper care
Who most has need of me;
Who most may need my counsel,
My influence, my pelf,
And most of all who needs my strength
To save him from myself.
For all I have of power
Beyond what he can wield,
Is not a weapon of offence
But a protecting shield,
Which I must hold before him
To save him from his foe,
E'en though I be the enemy
That longs to strike the blow.
I am my brother's keeper,
And must be to the end—
A neighbour to the neighbourless,
And to the friendless, friend;
His weakness lays it on me,
My strength involves it too,
And common love for common life
Will bear the burden through.
THE STRAIGHT RIDER.
(FROM "BLACK AND WHITE?" BY PERMISSION.)
"My dear Mabel, how pale you look! It is this hot room. I am sure Lord Saint Sinnes will not mind taking you for a little turn in the garden—between the dances."
My Lord Saint Sinnes—or Billy Sinnes as he is usually called by his friends—shuffled in his high collar. It is a remarkable collar, nearly related to a cuff, and it keeps Lord Saint Innes in remembrance of his chin. If it were not that this plain young nobleman were essentially a gentleman, one might easily mistake him for a groom. Moreover, like other persons of equine tastes, he has the pleasant fancy of affecting a tight and horsey "cut" in clothes never intended for the saddle.
The girl, addressed by her somewhat overpowering mother as Mabel, takes the proffered arm with a murmured acquiescence and a quivering lip. She is paler than before.
Over his stiff collar Lord Saint Sinnes looks down at her—with something of the deep intuition which makes him the finest steeplechaser in England. Perhaps he notes the quiver of the lip, the sinews drawn tense about her throat. Such silent signals of distress are his business. Certainly he notes the little shiver of abject fear which passes through the girl's slight form as they pass out of the room together. Their departure is noted by several persons—mostly chaperons.