“In fact, it’s the best of all possible worlds so far as father is concerned,” said Estelle, “and now he hears you’re coming home early next week, he will go to church on Sunday with a thankful heart.  He said yesterday that Raymond’s accident had a bright side.  D’you know what it is?  Ray meant to give up cricket altogether after this year; but father points out that he cannot do so now.  Because it is morally impossible for Ray to stop playing until he stands up again to that bowler who hurt him so badly.  ‘Morally impossible,’ is what father said.”

“He’s quite right too,” declared the patient.  “Till I’ve knocked that beggar out of his own ground for six, I certainly shan’t chuck cricket.  We must meet again next season, if we’re both alive.  Everybody can see that.”

CHAPTER VI

THE GATHERING PROBLEM

Sabina Dinnett found that her mind was not so indifferent to her fortunes as she supposed.  Upon examining it, with respect to the problem of leaving Bridetown for Abel’s sake, which Ernest had now raised, she discovered a very keen disinclination to depart.  Here was the only home that she, or her child, had ever known, and though that mattered nothing, she shrank from beginning a new life away from ‘The Magnolias’ under the increased responsibility of sole control where Abel was concerned.  Moreover, Mr. Churchouse had more power with Abel than anybody.  The boy liked him and must surely win sense and knowledge from him, as Sabina herself had won them in the past.  She knew that these considerations were superficial and the vital point in reason was to separate the son from the father; so that Abel’s existing animus might perish.  Both Estelle and Ernest Churchouse had impressed the view upon her; but here crept in the personal factor, and Sabina found that she had no real desire to mend the relationship.  Considerations of her child’s future pointed to more self-denial, but only that Abel might in time come to be reconciled to Raymond and accept good at his hands.  And when Sabina thought upon this, she soon saw that her own indifference, where Ironsyde was concerned, did not extend to the future of the boy.  She could still feel, and still suffer, and still resent certain possibilities.  She trusted that in time to come, when Mr. Churchouse and Miss Ironsyde were gone, the measure of her son’s welfare would be hers.  She was content to see herself depending upon him; but not if his own prosperity came from his father.  She preferred to picture Abel as making his way without obligations to that source.  She might have married and made her own home, but that alternative never tempted her, since it would have thrust her off the pedestal which she occupied, as one faithful to the faithless, one bitterly wronged, a reproach to the good name—­perhaps, even a threat to the sustained prosperity of Raymond Ironsyde.  She could feel all this at some moments.