It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. ‘You put that thing away now, missie. "Jack has been keeping bad company. ‘Jacques?’ ‘No. "It is addressed to my mother," he added, as his eye glanced rapidly over it, "and by my father.
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