"Because"--she smiled for a moment--"you are not old enough. If you were--of age, say--why then I would." I had hold of the window-frame, looking at her, and an idea struck me. "Do you mean that I should be able then to command money?" "Yes, that's it, Johnny." "But, perhaps--if I were to write to Mr. Brandon----" "Hush!" she exclaimed in a sort of fright. "You must not talk of this, Johnny; you don't know the sad mischief you might do. Oh, if I can only keep it from you all! Here comes Joseph," she added in a whisper; and gathering up her work, went out of the room. "Did I not make a sign to you to come after me?" began Tod, in one of his tempers. "But I had to go over to the Coneys'. I've only just got back again." He looked into the room and saw that it was empty. "Where's madam gone? To the Ravine after her friend?" "She was here sewing not a minute ago." "Johnny, she told a lie. Did you notice the sound of her voice when she said the fellow was no relative of hers?" "Not particularly." "I did, then. At the moment the denial took me by surprise; but I remembered the tone later. It had an untrue ring in it. Madam told a lie, Johnny, as sure as that we are here. I'd lay my life he _is_ a relative of hers, or a connection in some way. I don't think now it is money he wants; if it were only that, she'd get it, and send him packing. It's worse than that: disgrace, perhaps." "What sort of disgrace can it be?" "I don't know. But if something of the sort is not looming, never trust me again. And here am I, with my hands tied, forbidden to unravel it. Johnny, I feel just like a wild beast barred up in a cage." Had he been a real wild beast he could not have given the window-frame a much worse shake, as he passed through in his anger to the bench under the mulberry-tree. When you have to look far back to things, recollection sometimes gets puzzled as to the order in which they happened. How it came about I am by no means clear, but an uncomfortable feeling grew up in my mind about Hugh. About both the children, in fact, but Hugh more than Lena. Mrs. Todhetley seemed to dread Hugh's being abroad--and I'm sure I was not mistaken in thinking it. I heard her order Hannah to keep the children within view of the house, and not to allow Hugh to stray away from her. Had it been winter weather I suppose she'd have kept them indoors altogether; there could be no plea for it under the blue sky and the hot summer sun.