and the beasts that perish, it is quite useless to prolong the
conversation."

"Reason is apt to be useless when opposed to the generous impulses of a
sex so full of sentiment as yours, madam," said the lawyer, rising also.
"Permit me to take a long farewell, since it is improbable that our
friendship will resume its old position until your _protegé_ has--run
away."

The words "long farewell" and "old friendship" were quite sufficient to
soften wrath in the tender hearts of the little ladies. But the lawyer
had really lost his temper, and, before Miss Betty had decided how to
offer the olive branch without conceding her principles he was gone.

The weather was warm. The little ladies were heated by discussion and
the parson by vain scouring of the country on foot, when they asked his
advice upon their project, and related their conversation with the
lawyer. The two gentlemen had so little in common that the parson felt
it his duty not to let his advice be prejudiced by this fact. For some
moments he sat silent, then he began to walk about as if he were
composing a sermon; then he stopped before the little ladies (who were
sitting as stiffly on the sofa as if it were a pew) and spoke as if he
were delivering one.

"If you ask me, dear ladies, whether it is your duty to provide for this
child because you found him, I say that there is no such obligation. If
you ask if I think it wise in your own interests, and hopeful as to the
boy's career, I am obliged to agree with your legal adviser. Vagabond
ways are seldom cured in one generation, and I think it is quite
probable that, after much trouble and anxiety spent upon him, he may go