"Indeed, indeed, I care to have it, Mr. Arkel," she said. "It is not because I urge you to take up your own fight in life that I value your good opinion the less. I know you are capable of good things, and I want to see you achieve them. You do not start handicapped as I did; you have not the sins of others to hamper you----" she stopped, for with the words came the thought of Barton and his diabolic scheme. "You have but one enemy worth the counting." "And who is that?" "Yourself. You are weak, and your love of pleasure dwarfs all else with you. At least you can strive to put a check on your desires--to indulge yourself less. Then gradually the rest will come; if you will only try. Will you?" There was a whole world of meaning in her tone; and the expression upon her face was very beautiful. His eye met hers, and he took her hand. "I will try, Miss Crane," he said. "No one has ever spoken to me before as you have done. I know that what you say is true. You are a brave woman, and as good and kind as you are brave. I will try and deserve the interest you take in me." "And you will succeed," said Miriam. "All I would ask of you is to be worthy of yourself." CHAPTER VIII. SHORTY. In every community or family there is generally one person who is strong enough to play the part of the cuckoo in the nest. The relative with a temper, who always gets his or her way--the bully of the tribe--the despot of the nation--these types are well-known if not appreciated. They dominate all those with whom they come in contact; they storm down opposition, and rule by sheer force of terror. Mrs. Darrow had the instinct and will to be one of this sort, but neither was her brain of sufficient capacity, nor her will sufficiently dogged to permit her attaining to such eminence. But the parish had its despot, and that in the person of Mrs. Parsley, the vicar's wife. She was a domestic Elizabeth crossed with Zantippe, and her sway was absolute. Mr. Parsley--the Reverend Augustine--was a tall, imposing-looking man, who should surely have been a bishop if looks went to the making of one. He was learned in a dry-as-dust sort of way, and was at present engaged in writing a book on the Hebrew syntax, though of what use this would be to the world when it was finished--if it ever did reach the finite stage--no one knew, himself least of all. However, as Mrs. Parsley said, his labours served to keep him out of mischief, and therefore she encouraged him in his digging for Jewish roots.