Page 614 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

something.’
‘Oh, Mr. North doesn’t care for music, and I’m not in-
clined to sing. Singing seems out of place here.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Frere. ‘Why should it be more out of
place here than anywhere else?’
‘Mrs. Frere means that mirth is in a manner unsuited
to these melancholy surroundings,’ said North, out of his
keener sense.
‘Melancholy surroundings!’ cried Frere, staring in turn
at the piano, the ottomans, and the looking-glass. ‘Well, the
house isn’t as good as the one in Sydney, but it’s comfort-
able enough.’
‘You don’t understand me, Maurice,’ said Sylvia. ‘This
place is very gloomy to me. The thought of the unhappy
men who are ironed and chained all about us makes me
miserable.’
‘What stuff!’ said Frere, now thoroughly roused. ‘The ruf-
fians deserve all they get and more. Why should you make
yourself wretched about them?’
‘Poor men! How do we know the strength of their temp-
tation, the bitterness of their repentance?’
‘Evil-doers earn their punishment,’ says North, in a hard
voice, and taking up a book suddenly. ‘They must learn to
bear it. No repentance can undo their sin.’
‘But surely there is mercy for the worst of evil-doers,’
urged Sylvia, gently.
North seemed disinclined or unable to reply, and nod-
ded only.
‘Mercy!’ cried Frere. ‘I am not here to be merciful; I am

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