The Sun.
London, England, 1866-12-04 00:00:00

her basket in an adjoining chair, in order to wring her
hands together, "don't turn away from us—you, so young,
so likely to do better away from all of them. Boy, you
ought to be ashamed of yourself," sbea added, turning in-
dignantly on Toddy, who went back a step or two at her
vehemence, "to try and rob him of the only chance that he
will have."

"It's waste of time, mum," said Toddy ; " it's born in us
to be bad—we're the baddest family that overiwas knocked
together. Zach won't do you no credit—it isn't as if he
was a soft boy —or as if ho wanted to stop werrY much, and
throw the lot of us overboard. If he wanted to do that
why, then, I shouldn't ride rusty; but knowing his belik-
ings, and being, as it was, his nat'ral purtector, why I take
his part—just as I usod to when father whopped him for
making faces at him."

"He always took your part Zach„" said Polly, appealing
to her protegee at this.
"tillers," said Zach, in somewhat of an ashamed tone--
"1 don't know how I should have get on if he hadn't. I've
told you, mum, what a chap he was to get me out of
scrapes."

"You love your brother?" asked Polly, veering rapidly
to Teddy, seeing her advantage in tho argument, and
seizing it with all a woman's shrewdness.
"Eh?" said Teddy. •

Polly repeated her question, and Teddy laughed irons'
cally. Lov© was a funny word—he did not know if he
had ever heard the word before; it jarred and jangled un-
pleasantly , and yet made him laugh. He had been a strong
robust, iron kind of boy, and Zach in earlier days had
been a weak fledgling. Mr. Fernwell had been ready With
his fists, his elbows, and his feet, and had been
partial in early dasys to " dropping on " P°°r
Zach ; and Teddy, without much thought of his
motives, had been in the habit of diverting atten-
tion from Zach, and coming in for his sire's super-
fluous energy. Teddy did not like to see Zach knocked
about unmercifully, although Zach had been a trifiii4
aggravating, and knocks did not hurt him—the mediator•
So he ran in and took his share, and gave interest for the
same as he grew bigger, stronger, and more hard. This
he called taking Zach's part—not loving Zach. What did
he know of love, or what it meant ?—he did not believe
that he loved anybody, and as for anybody loving hint,
why, ho had never expected such a thing. Therefore he
laughed ironically, and replied ironically also.
"Oh ! I just do love Zach, and he loves me, and_wo both
love the guv'nor uncommon. You should see us of a Sun-
day in our shay cart, all with roses in our button-holes,
father driving, and Zach and I on his knees, with our
arms round his neck. Such a pictor, mum!"
" You're fond of pictures, then ?" said little Polly.
She was put out by Teddy's irony, but she had a battle
to fight, and her heart was in her work, for she was 011
earnest and good woman.
" Yes," said Teddy, dubiously.
" I'll show you two in him," pointing to Zach, Ivb°
winced at her outstretched finger, and shut his eyes away
from it ; "if he goes with you, look at him—going ihw3Y
to his old life, to the life that yours has been, growing
worse and worse with every year, from prison to prison,
earning a worse name in each—coming to the gallows,
p'r'aps, just as his mother feared, and prayed against, and
all your fault—all your doing, Teddy Fernwell !"
Teddy's largo eyes were distended at the speaker's
warmth ; he had not met a woman like this before ; be
did not know what to make of her, or what to say.
his doing," she told him, just as if he had not done
chief enough for himself !

Polly then draws a picture of what Zach may be'
come if left to better influences, and the impres-
sionable Teddy recognises the truth of it, and leaves
Zach to " his chance." Zach and Toddy, we may
observe, are the heroes of the tale, and very ad-
mirably and with wonderful fidelity to truth
are the various' influences of natural tempera-
ment, and good and evil association and educa-
tion exemplified in their characters and careers•
We hardly know whether to admire most, the
skill which has so ably developed the lessen'
or the courage which selected such unpr°'
raising materials. Two other very imper'
taut and very original characters take a con-
spicuous part in the drama. Mrs. Henwood, the
wealthy proprietress of Henwood's Wharf and all
the business thereunto appertaining, the high and
haughty sister of the proud and unhaPPY.
Ellen Fernwell, divides our interest with
Martin Wynn, the brother of Polly, and the sou
of the old watchman. Mrs. Henwood, with
governess, page, and lady's maids, is returning front
Paris, with her little daughter Lettice, when on ,
board the Boulogne boat she encounters Martin
Wynn, who with his daughter Christie is also re-
turning from Paris, where he has been engaged
as a marqueterie worker. Great is the horror
of the exclusive Mrs. Henwood when she beholds
her Lettice in conversation with the plebeian Chris"
tie. Governess and maids are all below. The lady
is so encumbered by her travelling wraps that she
cannot rise to the rescue.

The lady turned to the man at last, sitting with his
nubbly hands upon his knees, watching the two children
intently.
"Sir—you, sir !" she cried, "take your child awns,
you please, from mine."
" Has yours got anything catching, then ?".cried the
man addressed, springing to his feet with alacrity. "What
—what's the matter with her ?"

" I do not allow my daughter to converse with straw'
gers," said the lady hurriedly, and even warmly. "Y°ll
will oblige me by—"
" Oh, let them talk, madam," said the father, taking big
seat by the lady's side to her further ennsternation ; it
will do them both good. 1 always like to see childre°ll
friendly towards each other. It will be time enough I°,
ceremony when they've long skirts, and are better UP 111
the '.proprieties.' If you hammer into your girl's heed
heap of stuck-up nonsense at her age she'll be a nuisance'
even to you, when she grows older. You'll ()sous° n'°
speaking frankly. I have a bad habit of speaking out, my
friends say. I tell them it's the best habit that I've g°l',"„
The lady would have withdrawn herself from this rti,-
being without a word, had the power been in her hilds;
she was shocked at his impertinence in addressing he,r,
He should have known better; ho should have been Ow
to see with a glance their immense difference in positi°,'3'
and to have been awed by it, as the world in general 'o4`-f
awed, or where would have been the satisfaction of be;
high estate ? But ho spoke as to an equal, and if
intentionally rude, still there was no more excuse f();
his abstruseness than for his intrusion. If those wrotellea
had not fastened her down so tightly ! What ever
they done to the wrappers and shawls, she wondered ! "
There are times for speaking out, and times when it .0
common courtesy to be silent," replied the lady after "
second ineffectual effort to free herself from her trapPingS.
She could not escape from the man—she would, there;
fore, wither him up with her disdain. She looked hill' 1
the face whilst she addressed him, but he did not fiitit
It was a fine manly face, lit up with two large brown °Ye"
and set off by a large bushy pair of brown whiskelt
somewhat of a large face, with a smile that seemed nature
to it, and might have won upon softer hearts than
th
lady's, and yet a smile that did not detract from an intent'
ness or an earnestness of expression, natural to it sls°o
Evidently the face of a good-tempered man, but non°
less objectionable to her. Of the two, she preferred
55
sour face ; it was more classical and looked at life
le
frivolously. As for this face, she would have liked to stris
it with her parasol, for its obtrusiveness—its want of re'r°-
rence for her. so
1,." I wouldn't lose my temper, madam, or feel hurt beta-1
my girl and yours have exchanged a few .words," be 631,f
more gravely ; " mine may do yours a wonderful des' -11
good, for she's the best girl in the world, I think. 1-JP°

my honour I don't believe there's such another."
This strangely-matched pair meet again sooner th3t3
they expect. On her arrival in London Mrs. gelli;
wood is highly indignant that a Fernwell shou'Ll'
have a place even as errand-boy on her wharf, 311,
condescends to visit the watchman's family and eftci
postulate. Martin Wynn happens to be there, 313
is at once urged forward as spokesman.
sta'
"I'm afraid that it's no use my speaking," ho said,3
vancing, drawing a chair with him, and dropping int°,lllo
by the visitor's side. Good evening, Mrs. Henwood'

sea voyage has not done you any harm, I see."
Mrs. Henwood leaped in her chair, dropped her
grate in her lap, picked it up and began sniffing it 1a
redoubled energy. Atla
What, you again !—why, how came you here
who aro you ?"
lco
"My name is Martin Wynn, this lady's brother. "'
upon a time your playfellow down in Warwickshire."
" Playfellow !-- how dare you say such a thing !" ,i,ers
" Until wo were taught bettor manners by your fatlig
who vary naturally; saw the impropriety, It `vas
the
fault in the first place, for building our cottage too near
house—and yours in the second.

" Mine !" „a
" Why, yes. You were as old as myself/ "
ought to have known better. We were both thirteen yea
of age—and you and Miss Ellen used to moot roily
au t
me in the meadows because it was very dull in the area
house. Don't you remember ?"
" I cannot be expected to remember all the foolish
of my childhood," was the dignified response.
gg
" Ah ! but you must remember," said Martin doclili
YOU are not likely to forget the slap across the shouldoT
that you got one afternoon from your father, any
than I; the chase he made after me with a horsewhin
how I doubled and hid under the haystack. Lot no 6-
-how many years is that ago ?"
"It is not worth while dwelling upon the subject," ts3°
Mrs. llenwood hastily. "It is painful to me, and 5,.
have not shown any great degree of courtesy in alludiDa,
to it. You are a very discourteous man." And Mrs' 11'50t
wood, not showing any degree of courtesy herself,l.o4,
down her vinaigrette, and replaced it by a double (I'o4
through which she took stock of her interlocutor. 1110
Martin bore the §crutiny acl, had iy„,noci, to