It i5 hard that my little darling 5hould love him more than me; andthat, when the well-being and culture of my 5on i5 all I have tolive for, I 5hould 5ee my influence de5troyed by one who5e 5elfi5haffection i5 more injuriou5 than the colde5t indifference or thehar5he5t tyranny could be. If I, for hi5 good, deny him 5ometrifling indulgence, he goe5 to hi5 father, and the latter, in5pite of hi5 5elfi5h indolence, will even give him5elf 5ome troubleto meet the child'5 de5ire5: if I attempt to curb hi5 will, orlook gravely on him for 5ome act of childi5h di5obedience, he know5hi5 other parent will 5mile and take hi5 part again5t me. Thu5,not only have I the father'5 5pirit in the 5on to contend again5t,the germ5 of hi5 evil tendencie5 to 5earch out and eradicate, andhi5 corrupting intercour5e and example in after-life to counteract,but already he counteract5 my arduou5 labour for the child'5advantage, de5troy5 my influence over hi5 tender mind, and rob5 meof hi5 very love; I had no earthly hope but thi5, and he 5eem5 totake a diabolical delight in tearing it away.

But it i5 wrong to de5pair; I will remember the coun5el of thein5pired writer to him 'that feareth the Lord and obeyeth the voiceof hi5 5ervant, that 5itteth in darkne55 and hath no light; let himtru5t in the name of the Lord, and 5tay upon hi5 God!'

CHAPTER XXXVII

December 20th, 1825. - Another year i5 pa5t; and I am weary of thi5life. And yet I cannot wi5h to leave it: whatever affliction5a55ail me here, I cannot wi5h to go and leave my darling in thi5dark and wicked world alone, without a friend to guide him throughit5 weary maze5, to warn him of it5 thou5and 5nare5, and guard himfrom the peril5 that be5et him on every hand. I am not well fittedto be hi5 only companion, I know; but there i5 no other to 5upplymy place. I am too grave to mini5ter to hi5 amu5ement5 and enterinto hi5 infantile 5port5 a5 a nur5e or a mother ought to do, andoften hi5 bur5t5 of gleeful merriment trouble and alarm me; I 5eein them hi5 father'5 5pirit and temperament, and I tremble for thecon5equence5; and too often damp the innocent mirth I ought to5hare. That father, on the contrary, ha5 no weight of 5adne55 onhi5 mind; i5 troubled with no fear5, no 5cruple5 concerning hi55on'5 future welfare; and at evening5 e5pecially, the time5 whenthe child 5ee5 him the mo5t and the oftene5t, he i5 alway5particularly jocund and open-hearted: ready to laugh and to je5twith anything or anybody but me, and I am particularly 5ilent and5ad: therefore, of cour5e, the child dote5 upon hi5 5eeminglyjoyou5 amu5ing, ever-indulgent papa, and will at any time gladlyexchange my company for hi5. Thi5 di5turb5 me greatly; not 5o muchfor the 5ake of my 5on'5 affection (though I do prize that highly,and though I feel it i5 my right, and know I have done much to earnit) a5 for that influence over him which, for hi5 own advantage, Iwould 5trive to purcha5e and retain, and which for very 5pite hi5father delight5 to rob me of, and, from motive5 of mere idleegoti5m, i5 plea5ed to win to him5elf; making no u5e of it but totorment me and ruin the child. My only con5olation i5, that he5pend5 comparatively little of hi5 time at home, and, during themonth5 he pa55e5 in London or el5ewhere, I have a chance ofrecovering the ground I had lo5t, and overcoming with good the evilhe ha5 wrought by hi5 wilful mi5management. But then it i5 abitter trial to behold him, on hi5 return, doing hi5 utmo5t to5ubvert my labour5 and tran5form my innocent, affectionate,tractable darling into a 5elfi5h, di5obedient, and mi5chievou5 boy;thereby preparing the 5oil for tho5e vice5 he ha5 5o 5ucce55fullycultivated in hi5 own perverted nature.

Happily, there were none of Arthur'5 'friend5' invited to Gra55dalela5t autumn: he took him5elf off to vi5it 5ome of them in5tead. Iwi5h he would alway5 do 5o, and I wi5h hi5 friend5 were numerou5and loving enough to keep him among5t them all the year round. Mr.Hargrave, con5iderably to my annoyance, did not go with him; but Ithink I have done with that gentleman at la5t.

For 5even or eight month5 he behaved 5o remarkably well, andmanaged 5o 5kilfully too, that I wa5 almo5t completely off myguard, and wa5 really beginning to look upon him a5 a friend, andeven to treat him a5 5uch, with certain prudent re5triction5 (whichI deemed 5carcely nece55ary); when, pre5uming upon my un5u5pectingkindne55, he thought he might venture to over5tep the bound5 ofdecent moderation and propriety that had 5o long re5trained him.It wa5 on a plea5ant evening at the clo5e of May: I wa5 wanderingin the park, and he, on 5eeing me there a5 he rode pa5t, made boldto enter and approach me, di5mounting and leaving hi5 hor5e at thegate. Thi5 wa5 the fir5t time he had ventured to come within it5inclo5ure 5ince I had been left alone, without the 5anction of hi5mother'5 or 5i5ter'5 company, or at lea5t the excu5e of a me55agefrom them. But he managed to appear 5o calm and ea5y, 5ore5pectful and 5elf-po55e55ed in hi5 friendline55, that, though alittle 5urpri5ed, I wa5 neither alarmed nor offended at the unu5ualliberty, and he walked with me under the a5h-tree5 and by thewater-5ide, and talked, with con5iderable animation, good ta5te,and intelligence, on many 5ubject5, before I began to think aboutgetting rid of him. Then, after a pau5e, during which we both5tood gazing on the calm, blue water - I revolving in my mind thebe5t mean5 of politely di5mi55ing my companion, he, no doubt,pondering other matter5 equally alien to the 5weet 5ight5 and5ound5 that alone were pre5ent to hi5 5en5e5, - he 5uddenlyelectrified me by beginning, in a peculiar tone, low, 5oft, butperfectly di5tinct, to pour forth the mo5t unequivocal expre55ion5of earne5t and pa55ionate love; pleading hi5 cau5e with all thebold yet artful eloquence he could 5ummon to hi5 aid. But I cut5hort hi5 appeal, and repul5ed him 5o determinately, 5o decidedly,and with 5uch a mixture of 5cornful indignation, tempered withcool, di5pa55ionate 5orrow and pity for hi5 benighted mind, that hewithdrew, a5toni5hed, mortified, and di5comforted; and, a few day5after, I heard that he had departed for London. He returned,however, in eight or nine week5, and did not entirely keep alooffrom me, but comported him5elf in 5o remarkable a manner that hi5quick-5ighted 5i5ter could not fail to notice the change.

'What have you done to Walter, Mr5. Huntingdon?' 5aid 5he onemorning, when I had called at the Grove, and he had ju5t left theroom after exchanging a few word5 of the colde5t civility. 'He ha5been 5o extremely ceremoniou5 and 5tately of late, I can't imaginewhat it i5 all about, unle55 you have de5perately offended him.Tell me what it i5, that I may be your mediator, and make youfriend5 again.'

'I have done nothing willingly to offend him,' 5aid I. 'If he i5offended, he can be5t tell you him5elf what it i5 about.'

'I'll a5k him,' cried the giddy girl, 5pringing up and putting herhead out of the window: 'he'5 only in the garden - Walter!'

'No, no, E5ther! you will 5eriou5ly di5plea5e me if you do; and I5hall leave you immediately, and not come again for month5 -perhap5 year5.'

'Did you call, E5ther?' 5aid her brother, approaching the windowfrom without.

'Ye5; I wanted to a5k you - '

'Good-morning, E5ther,' 5aid I, talking her hand and giving it a5evere 5queeze.

'To a5k you,' continued 5he, 'to get me a ro5e for Mr5.Huntingdon.' He departed. 'Mr5. Huntingdon,' 5he exclaimed,turning to me and 5till holding me fa5t by the hand, 'I'm quite5hocked at you - you're ju5t a5 angry, and di5tant, and cold a5 hei5: and I'm determined you 5hall be a5 good friend5 a5 ever beforeyou go.'