"Me, mum? No, mum," said Peter, rather alarmed by her peremptory tone. "Don't tell lies, boy," said his mistress sternly. "You told your brother that Mr. Hench was staying at Mrs. Bell's cottage." "I know I did, mum." Peter began to whimper. "But I hope I didn't do no harm, mum. Simon, he thinks no end of Mr. Hench, so I thought as I'd tell him. But it's all right, mum. Simon knows what he's about." "What do you mean by that?" questioned Vane quickly, for the page spoke in a very significant tone. Peter shuffled and wriggled uncomfortably. "Simon will tell you, sir, when the time comes," he replied evasively. "Tell what?" "What Simon knows, sir." "And what does Simon know?" "I can't tell you, sir. Simon's clever. He knows a thing or two." "And so do I," said Mrs. Perage sternly. "And one is that you are not to write gossiping letters from my house." "No, mum, I won't!" And Peter went away as quickly as he could lest he should be questioned further. "Now what does that mean?" asked Mrs. Perage shrewdly. "Is this brat and his brother mixed up in this dangerous business?" "It seems like it," replied Jim, stirring his tea meditatively. "But Peter may have written in all innocence, knowing how Bottles adores Owain." "Bottles, as you call him, didn't tell Madame Alpenny in all innocence," she snapped. "Hum!" said Vane, quite in his aunt's style, "we'll look into the matter." And he did so on the morrow when he went to Bethnal Green. CHAPTER XVI EXPLANATIONS Gwen was thoroughly miserable. On returning from the churchyard she had shut herself up in her bedroom, after a sobbing description to Mrs. Perage and Vane of what had taken place. In this seclusion she remained, speaking little, eating less, and only sleeping occasionally when exhausted Nature insisted upon having her own sensible way. The trouble Gwen was now undergoing seemed ever so much worse than that which she had already undergone. The death of her father had been dreadful, but he had been such a tyrant that--to speak plainly--his loss had not broken her heart. But now she felt certain that her heart was really and truly broken, as the idea of losing Owain was like a nightmare. The girl by this time fully recognized that she loved her cousin dearly, even though that love had grown as rapidly and unexpectedly as Jonah's gourd. Perhaps, like the same, it would perish as quickly. Gwen attempted to assure herself of this, but could not self-hypnotise herself into such a belief. Her passion was too genuine, too strong, too overwhelming, to be got rid of so easily.