"Yes," the reply came slowly; "he said that we might almost look upon Jem
as a dead man."
Mother and son looked at each other and said nothing. Heredity is a
strange thing, and one alternately aggrandised and slighted. Blood is a
very powerful force, but the little lessons taught in childhood's years
bear a wondrous crop of good or evil fruit in later days.
Left alone, Arthur Agar's natural tendency was towards good. Probably
because he was timid, and goodness seems the safer course. There are many
who have not the courage to forsake goodness, even for a moment. But
under the influence of a stronger will--that is to say, under the
influence of four out of every five persons crossing his path--Arthur was
liable to be led in any direction. He would rather have sinned in company
than have cultivated virtue in the solitude usually accorded to that
state.
Somehow, in his mother's presence it did not seem so very wrong to keep
back the truth respecting Jem and to turn it to his own ends.
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