It seemed as if he was _bound_ to ruin himself, and nothing could stop him.

When he died, his wife (he married her, thinking she had money, and it turned out she hadn't a penny) took the child and went back to her own people, and we heard nothing more till about two years ago, when this boy came to Jacob with a letter from his mother's folks.

She was dead, and they said _they_ couldn't do for him any longer, and he didn't seem inclined to do for himself.

Well, that is the story, Hilda dear.

He has been here ever since, and he has been no comfort, no pleasure to us, I must say; but we have tried to do our duty by him, and I hoped he might feel in his heart some gratitude to his uncle, though he showed none in his actions.