‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘but I want to hear your story—I can always listen to the thrushes.’ He was silent after this for several minutes. She did not further press him. She knew he would tell her all when he had rallied his courage to do so. They heard Eve upstairs in her room lightly singing a favourite air from ‘Don Giovanni.’ ‘It is due to you,’ said Jasper at last. ‘I will hide nothing from you, and I know your kind heart will bear with me if I am somewhat long.’ She looked round, smiled, just raised her fingers on her lap and let them fall again. When Jasper saw that smile he thought he had never seen a sweeter sight. And yet people said that Barbara was plain! ‘Miss Jordan, as you have heard, my brother Martin took the money. Poor Martin! Poor, dear Martin! His is a broken life, and it was so full of promise!’ ‘Did you love Martin very dearly?’ ‘I do love him dearly. I have pitied him so deeply. He has had a hard childhood. I will tell you all, and your good kind soul will pity, not condemn him. You have no conception what a bright handsome lad he was. I love to think of him as he was—guileless, brimming with spirits. Unfortunately for us, our father had the idea that he could mould his children’s character into whatever shape he desired, and he had resolved to make of Martin a Baptist minister, so he began to write on his tender heart the hard tenets of Calvinism, with an iron pen dipped in gall. When my brother and I played together we were happy—happy as butterflies in the sun. When we heard our father’s voice or saw him, we ran away and hid behind bushes. He interfered with our pursuits, he sneered at our musical tastes, he tried to stop our practising on the violin. We were overburdened with religion, had texts rammed into us as they ram groats down the throats of Strasburg geese. Our livers became diseased like these same geese—our moral livers. Poor Martin could least endure this education: it drove him desperate. He did what was wrong through sheer provocation. By nature he is good. He has a high spirit, and that led him into revolt.’ ‘I have seen your brother Martin,’ said Barbara. ‘When you were brought insensible to this house he was with you.’ ‘What did you think of him?’ asked Jasper, with pride in his tone. ‘I did not see his face, he never removed his hat.’ ‘Has he not a pleasant voice! and he is so grand and generous in his demeanour!’ Barbara said nothing. Jasper waited, expecting some word of praise. ‘Tell me candidly what you thought of him,’ said Jasper. ‘I do not like to do so. I did form an opinion of him, but—it was not favourable.’