IX.—THE CHILD OF OUR HOPE
CHARLIE FETHERSTON was a barrister, a man with good manners, a man of brains, and he possessed, though he concealed the fact, a soul. Most people in Dublin, that is to say in Dublin society, liked him for his good manners, admired him for his brains, and did not distrust him, because they were ignorant of the existence of his soul. On the other hand, his aunt, Lady Honoria Burke, loved him for the sake of his soul. She discovered it in spite of his good manners and his brains. She had a curious power of recognising hidden possibilities in unlikely people. Charlie Fetherston, on his part, had a real affection for his aunt. He described her, to the friends who appreciated his manners and his brains, as "queer, decidedly queer, but a good sort, and very comfortably off." In reality she attracted him because she talked to him, with simple directness, about things which neither he nor she understood, but which roused emotions. One evening in November, in response to an invitation, Charlie Fetherston arrived at his aunt's house. She greeted him solemnly, and motioned him to sit down. She sat opposite to him on a high, straight-backed chair. The room was only lighted by the fire.
