Presently he left it and began to walk up and
down the room, hands in his pockets.
"I've doubtless made a mess of looking after him, but I did the best
I knew how. Because of the eleven years' difference in our ages I've
shut my eyes to much I should have seen, and refused to hear what I
should have listened to, perhaps, but I was afraid of being too
severe, too lacking in sympathy with his youth, with the differences
in our natures, and, chiefly, because I knew he was largely the
product of his rearing. He was only fourteen when father died, and
to the day of her death mother allowed no one to correct him. She
indulged him beyond sense or reason; let him grow up with the idea
that whatever he wanted he could have. Restraint and discipline were
never taught him. As for direction, guidance, training--" Selwyn's
shoulders shrugged. "If I said anything to mother, cautioned her of
the mistake she was making, she thought me hard and cruel, and ended
by weeping. After her death it was too late."
"Doesn't he work? Does he do nothing at all?"
"Work!" Selwyn stopped.
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