"I noticed that," said Juliet. "In fact he told me that Dicky and your
baby were the only two people in the world that he loved."

"Did he now? Well, did you ever?" Mrs. Rickett's weather-beaten
countenance softened as it were in spite of itself. "He always did take
to my Freddy, right from the very first. And Freddy's just the same. Soon
as ever he catches sight of Robin, he's all in a fever like to get to
him. Mr. Fielding from the Court, he were in here the other day and he
see 'em together. 'Your baby's got funny taste, Mrs. Rickett,' he says
and laughs. And I says to him, 'There's a many worse than poor young
Robin, sir,' I says. 'And in our own village too.' You see, Mr. Fielding
he's one of them gentlemen as likes to have the managing of other folks'
affairs and he's always been on to Dick to have poor Robin put away. But
Dick won't hear of it, and I don't blame him. For, as I say, there's no
harm in the lad if he's treated proper, and he'd break his heart if they
was to send him away. And he's that devoted to Dick too--well, there, it
fair makes me cry sometimes to see him. He'll sit and wait for him by the
hour together, like a dog he will."

"Was he born like that?" asked Juliet, as her informant paused for
breath.

Mrs. Rickett pursed her lips. "Well, you see, miss, he were a twin, and
he never did thrive from the very earliest. But he wasn't a hunchback,
not like he is now, at first. The poor mother died when they was born,
and p'raps it were a good thing, for she'd have grieved terrible if she
could have seen what he were a-going to grow into. For she was a lady
born and bred, married beneath her, you know. Nor she didn't have any
such life of it either. He were a sea-captain--a funny, Frenchy-looking