The lawyer had contented himself with seeing that Stephen wanted for nothing, that he was well dressed and well nourished; but he was such a little fellow, and so palpably depressed by the authority which Mrs. Pope administered, that Benson almost regretted he had forced Virginia to the step he had. His triumph left an aftermath of selfreproach and disgust. He had stooped to petty persecution, and clearly the boy himself was far from happy as a result. It was his wish to mitigate the wrong he felt he had done the child, which in the end provoked him to a display of something approaching personal interest. He was conscious that Stephen met his advances with childish mistrust, but this wore away; the lawyer's gentleness and kindness had their effect just as he intended they should, and Stephen put aside his doubt of his Uncle Jacob, and concluded that he was ever so much better than Mrs. Pope's account of him. Benson felt that he should have associates of his own age, that Mrs. Pope and Peter were not exactly the most engaging companions he could have, but there were no boys in the neighbourhood whose manners or morals fitted them to be his playfellows. True, there was a region of back streets and alleys in the rear of his ample grounds, overlooked by small frame dwellings; here there were children of all ages, and in course of time Stephen came to know certain of these youthful neighbours of his, for while he had seemed cut off from them by barriers whose nature he did not comprehend, he had long been aware that the world held the possibility of a more desirable companionship than that he was knowing. There were also strange small boys whom he occasionally saw scurrying through the garden or dodging among the grape arbours. They had appeared with the first half-ripe strawberry; they came again when the big Lorton blackberries were hard as bullets; then their visits languished for a little space; but when the early harvest apples on the two big trees back of the barn were the size of turkey eggs, they reappeared, this time armed with clubs, and there was a fine rattling among the branches. The effect of these depredations on Peter was not wholly pleasant; indeed at first Stephen had regarded him with wide-eyed terror; for the German would explode in guttural mutterings and strange oaths, as he rushed in pursuit of the thieves, who as they fled before his advance on nimble legs, hurled back taunts and insults. “Dutchy! Who's afraid of Dutchy! Dutchy can't run! Dutchy's got a belly full of beer—belly full of beer!” In possession of the field, Peter would retire to the stables where he would supply himself with nails and hatchet, then he would make an examination of the high picket-fence back of the garden, and here he was almost certain to find a spot where a board had been removed to favour a hasty retreat; this he would restore to utility with many unnecessary nails.