"That's your temper, is it, you young dog?" he cried; "but I'll soon tame that down. What, am I to lose thousands of pounds by your cheating scoundrel of a father, and then, when to save his wretched brat from starvation I have arranged to give him a home, I am to have him turn and rend me? But I'll soon cure all that, my fine fellow. You've got the wrong man to deal with, and it was quite time your career of spoiled child was over." He turned and left the room, and after crouching there sobbing for a few minutes, I got up in a stunned, hopeless way, brushed the dust off my clothes, and as I turned I caught a glimpse of my hot red face and wet eyes in the glass. I was hastily removing the traces of the childish tears when I smelt the pungent odour of tobacco, and my first impulse was to run away and hide; but there was no way of escape, and I had to turn round and face Mr Rowle, who stood smoking in the doorway. "What's he been leathering you for?" he said, without removing his pipe. "I--I struck him!" I panted out, trembling with shame and indignation. "You? You hit Lawyer Blakeford?" he said, with a broad grin overspreading his face. "Come, I like that. I didn't think there was so much stuff in you." "He--he--said false things about my poor dead father," I faltered. "And you tried to punch his head for it, young 'un; and serve him right, that's what I say. Never mind: cheer up, young un; you'll grow a man some day, see if you don't. But, I say, look here, where are you going to stay? The house'll be full of people directly." "I'm--I'm to go to Mr Blakeford--to his office, he says." "Whee-ew!" whistled Mr Rowle. "That's it, is it? Your guv'nor owed him money, eh, and he's going to take it out of you? I say, young un, you're in for it." "Am I, sir?" I said, in a dull, despairing way, for I understood by his words that my future was not to be a very pleasant one, but just then I heard Mr Blakeford's voice below, and Mr Rowle gave me a friendly nod and turned away, while I stood listening, expecting to be called. I can recall those feelings that came over me to this day--shame, mortification, wounded pride, misery, and despair. What was to become of me? How could I ever live with a man who spoke so cruelly of one who had always been so firm and yet so gentle with me? No mother, no father, no one to say one kind and encouraging word to me but that poor rough man in possession, towards whom in those hours of misery my young heart went out with all its passion of childlike affection.