CHAPTER IV.
BROTHERS The pleasant habit of existence, the sweet fable of Life and Love.
* * * * * They sin who tell us Love can die, With Life all other passions fly, Love is indestructible.
* * * * * A mother is a mother still, the holiest thing alive.
This afternoon the brothers looked at each other with great love, but there was in it a sense of wariness; and Harry was inclined to bluff what he knew his brother would regard with inconvenient seriousness.
"Will you sit, Harry?
Or are you going at once to mother?
She is a bit anxious about you." "I will sit with you half an hour, John.

I want to talk with you.

I am very unhappy." "Nay, nay! You don't look unhappy, I'm sure; and you have no need to feel so." "Indeed, I have.

If a man hates his lifework, he is very likely to hate his life.

You know, John, that I have always hated mills.