'First of all,' eagerly began my friend, 'I propose to keep him long enough to re-instate him in his self-respect; secondly, to study his temperament and character thoroughly in order to discover what line of life he is best suited for, and then to get him some appropriate situation. That is the programme, and, I think, a quite practical and satisfactory one. There is no "pauperizing" here, you see; it is simply giving a man a fair chance. And now,' he continued briskly, 'come out and inspect the garden.' The protégé, it appeared, had been making himself useful therein, which my friend thought was a highly encouraging sign, 'for,' said he, 'no bad man ever cared for gardening.' The next few days I spent contentedly in absolute idleness, now strolling up the waterside, now smoking and reading peacefully in the little arbour behind the herbaceous border. I had almost forgotten the existence of my _bête-noir_; he showed, indeed, a most commendable readiness to efface himself as much as possible from observation, and when I chanced to pass him he seemed rather to avoid me than to seek my company. 'Good-morning,' I would say, if I happened to come out of the house before breakfast for a stroll, and find him chopping firewood, 'lovely weather, and looks like lasting, I think.' 'Ay,' he would usually reply, with a hurried touch to his cap, 'it's canny weather,' then muttering something about being busy, would incontinently hurry into the house. I took this as a sign of grace, and was quite favourable to the mode of intercourse thus established. But my host, I could see, was pained at my apparent lack of interest in his protégé; so the next day, finding Blythe engaged in tying up the suckers of the honeysuckle to the trellis of the arbour, I went boldly up to him, determined to try and draw him out. 'Well, and how do you like the country?' I inquired. 'A pleasant change after town life, eh?' He gave me a quick, suspicious glance in return, then muttering, 'Ay, dootless,' again devoted himself to his occupation. I tried again, but, meeting with no encouragement, became, I am bound to confess, a little nettled, as though with an insubordinate witness. The happy insouciance I thought to have marked in him at our first encounter had vanished, and ''Tis the knifing variety, after all,' I murmured to myself, and fell to scrutinizing him somewhat severely. There was something about him that somehow seemed familiar to me. I determined to probe, and see if he would wince. 'Possibly you don't care about the country?' I suggested smoothly; 'towns, perhaps, attract you more. York, for example, is a nice town, and, by chance, say September 30 for a little business in the vicinity, eh?' He looked me full in the face at this, a very ugly smile curving his lips, as he replied abruptly, 'What is it you're wanting?'