'It is a correct one. His has not been conscious guilt; what was bad in his character was stamped in him, and was almost forced to take root by the unfortunate circumstances in his early life; what was good never had a chance. We all have good and bad in us, Josey, and surrounding circumstances have much to do in making one or the other predominate in our characters. What is that thought that crossed your eyes just now, Josey?' 'I was thinking that you have grown into a perfect philosopher, Chris. Go on.' 'Say that uncle Bryan had been blessed with such a mother as my mother is--he would have been a different man; he couldn't have helped being a better man. He would have believed in God, in goodness; he would not have grown into a misanthrope. Josey, if there is anything good in me--and I hope I am not all bad--I have mother only to thank for it. It makes me tremble to think that I was so nearly losing her, and that her love for me was very nearly her death; and I know, to my sorrow, that for a long time I repaid her affection with indifference. Well, but that is all over now, thank God. If uncle Bryan had had a good, tender, considerate mother, many unhappy things would not have occurred to him, and it might have been better for Jessie also. As I said, it is dreadful to think of father and daughter being separated as they are, and to think that uncle Bryan might die without a word of affection passing between them. Well, that was the thought in my mind when I said to mother to-day that she ought to go to Jessie; for if mother finds uncle Bryan--and I have an idea that she will--no one but she can bring him and Jessie together.' 'But you didn't tell your mother this, Chris?' 'No; mother did not need telling. She knew my meaning well enough. Words are not required between us now, Josey, to make us understand one another.' 'And so, and so, and so,' said Josey, with tender gaiety, when I had concluded, 'everything having been made right, they lived happily together for ever afterwards.' It was with sadness I remembered that those were the very words which Jessie had spoken to me in the little parlour in which Josey and I were now conversing. 'Now I'm a witch,' cried Josey, 'and I'll give you three wishes. What are they?' I looked at her reproachfully, but she did not heed me. She hobbled about as witches are in the habit of doing on the stage, and waved the poker over my head, and conducted herself generally in a ridiculous manner.