"He's suffering from life-long repression," the Doctor told his wife. "Now he's got to find a safety-valve." In his own mind Mr. Trupp had no doubt as to the form the safety-valve would take. About that time Mrs. Trupp, meeting Mr. Pigott in the Moot, asked him how his new hand was getting on. "Working steady as Old Time," replied the other with satisfaction. "I like the look upon his face," Mrs. Trupp remarked. "He's always expecting." "Yes," replied the old school-master, "expecting angels--like his father." "Perhaps he'll find them," smiled Mrs. Trupp. That evening, as it chanced, she met her godson under the elms in Saffrons Croft, and stopped him. It was May now. The hope illuminating air and sky and every living thing was reflected in Ernie's face. Indeed the young man looked inspired. The two regarded each other affectionately. "Ernie," said the lady, colouring faintly. "Yes, 'm." "Are you still thinking of that girl you told me about?" The other's face glowed like the moon. "I never hardly think of nothing else, 'm." "I knew you were," answered Mrs. Trupp. She added with a sudden lovely smile: "You'll find her--if you're faithful." "That's what dad keeps on, 'm," Ernie answered. "And I know I shall too. See, I keep all the while a-drawin her to me." He made the motion of one hauling on a line. "She can't escape me--not nohows." He turned on her the earnest eyes of the evangelist, and began to wag an impressive finger in the way she loved. "See, you can draw down what you want--_only you must want it with all your heart_. 'Taint no good without that. Alf, now, he draws down money. For why?--that's what he wants. Now I want something else." The lady regarded him with wise shrewd interest. This New Thought, as the foolish called it, how old it was, how universal, how deeply embedded in the primitive consciousness of the common man! Ernie, to be sure, did not read Edward Carpenter nor the works of any of that school; but instinct and experience had led him to knock at the same door. "And if Alf wanted something different, too?" she asked. Ernie shook a sceptical head. "He wouldn't--not really. That ain't Alf. Money's what Alf wants and what he gets by consequence. He's only for himself, Alf is. If he went out a'ter anything else he'd only go half-hearted like, therefore he wouldn't get it. He'd be a house divided against hissalf. So he'd fall." The two brothers now rarely met and never spoke. Just sometimes Ernie in his grimy overall, sitting with arms crossed and sooty face upon a load of coal in the jolting lorry, would be passed by Alf at the wheel of his thirty horse-power car, stealing by without an effort or a sound, swift as the wind, silent as the tide. On these occasions Ernie, perched aloft on his load, would detect the smirk on his brother's face, and knew that Alf was feeling his own superiority and hoping that Ernie felt it too.