“It does do me good; and if I didn’t hate him, I should hate myself,” the boy declared.

“Well, it’s better to hate yourself than somebody else.  It’s a good sign I should think if we hate ourselves.  We ought to hate ourselves more than we do, because we know better than anybody else how hateful we can be.  Instead of that, we waste tons of energy hating other people, and think there’s nobody so fine and nice and interesting as we are ourselves.”

“Mister Churchouse says the less we think about ourselves the better.  But you’ve got to if you’ve been ill-used.”

In the dusk twinkled out a glow-worm beside the hedge, and they stopped while Abel picked it up.  Gradually he grew calmer, and when they parted he thanked her for her goodness to him.

“It’s been a proper day, all but the end,” he said, “and I will like you and be your friend.  But I won’t like my father and be his friend, because he’s bad and served mother and me badly.  You may think I don’t understand such things, but I do.  And I never will be beholden to him as long as I live—­never.”

He left her at the outer gate of his home and she drove on and considered him rather hopelessly.  He had some feeling for beauty on which she had trusted to work, but it was slight.  He was vain, very sensitive, and disposed to be malignant.  As yet reason had not come to his rescue and his emotions, ill-directed, ran awry.  He was evidently unaware that his father had so far saved the situation for him.  What would he do when he knew it?

Estelle felt the picnic not altogether a failure, yet saw little signs of a situation more hopeful at present.

“I can win him,” she decided; “but it looks as though his father never would.”

CHAPTER XIII

THE RUNAWAY

Estelle was as good as her word and devoted not a few of his holidays to the pleasure of Sabina’s son.  Unconsciously she hastened the progress of other matters, for her resolute attempt to win Abel, at any cost of patience and trouble, brought her still deeper into the hidden life and ambitions of the boy’s father.

She was frank with Raymond, and when Abel had gone back to school and made no sign, Estelle related her experiences.

“He’s sworn eternal friendship with me,” she said, “but it’s not a friendship that extends to you, or anybody else.  He’s very narrow.  He concentrates in a terrifying way and wants everything.  He told me that he hated me to have any other friends but him.  It took him a long time to decide about me; but now he has decided.  He extracts terrific oaths of secrecy and then imparts his secrets.  Before giving the oaths, I always tell him I shan’t keep them if he’s going to confide anything wicked; but his secrets are harmless enough.  The last was a wonderful hiding-place.  He spends many hours in it.  I nearly broke my neck getting there.  That’s how far we’ve reached these holidays; and after next term I shall try again.”