" It's that horrible old Major Desmond just
gone," she said, viciously. " He has been most
insulting! He actually says / am to blame for
Boy's turning out so badly !"

The Honourable Jim began to laugh. It was
not a pleasant laugh, and the nature of his illness
did not conduce to agreeable facial expression.
But what latent sense of humour remained in him
was decidedly awakened by his wife's indigna-
tion.
"You're to blame, eh! He said that? Well,
he's right — so you are! So you are!"

" Jim !"

And over her fat cheeks her little eyes peered at
him with a look of amazement and wrath.
" I mean it," he persisted, thickly, trying to
twist his poor paralysed tongue to distinct utter-
ance. " You haven't been fair with me or Boy,"
and he began to whimper feebly. " The house
has always been at sixes and sevens; never knew
when one was going to have one's bit or drop ; no
one in their senses would ever have called it a
home — and you never tried to do me any good.
If you had, I might not be lying here now. Des-
mond's right enough. Old Dick Desmond was
always a good sort of thoroughgoing chap. He
knows what's what. He's right — it is your fault.
God knows it is !"

His head fell back wearily on his pillow, and his
lack-lustre eyes rolled restlessly in his head, as if
in search for something unattainable. There was

324



BOY.
