“This must be put a stop to,” said Clara under her breath. “I have not come back a moment too soon.” “What is the matter with you, nurse? How queer you look!” “There’s nothing the matter, dear. Oh, yes, what you did was quite natural, and I—I am not cross. You are going to have a change soon, dear, darling little Piers, a splendid change. Now run into the bedroom and send my mother in.” “It is fun,” said the boy. “You have secrets with me and secrets with your mother.” He strutted into the bedroom. “It’s your turn now,” he said to the old lady. “I am to be shut in here while you two talk secrets. I hate secrets, but they’re awful ’citing. Go, Mrs. Ives, and talk to her. She’s a very handsome woman, and she’s a lady, but I do wish she didn’t want us to keep so many secrets.” “What’s up?” asked Mrs. Ives. “Whisper to me, honey.” “I think it’s because we walked past Ashley Mansions.” He stopped and clapped his hand to his mouth. “Don’t you remember how I stopped opposite No. 12 and made you guess—don’t you remember?” “Of course I remember,” said Mrs. Ives, with a toss of her head. “And I can put two and two together as well as most. I’ll have a talk with Clara. Clara may keep things from the rest of the world, but she’s not going to keep them from her old mother. You rest quiet, my little lamb; you and I will be a match for Clara yet, although she is such a fine lady.” Mrs. Ives went back into the sitting-room. She dropped a mocking curtsey to her daughter. “A mercy me!” she cried for the third time. “And what’s your ladyship’s pleasure with me?” “Don’t talk nonsense, mother,” said Clara. “Sit down and let us discuss things.” “I’m agreeable,” said old Mrs. Ives. “This kind of thing can’t go on, you know,” said Clara. “What kind of thing, your ladyship?” “Oh, mother, don’t be so irritating; I hate you to speak in that strain. Look here, you mustn’t pry into my secrets about the boy. If I choose to keep him here that’s my affair. You’re fond of a bit of money, aren’t you, and I can make it well worth your while to keep quiet and lie low, but the moment you guess what I want to keep hidden, the money stops. The child goes elsewhere, you understand?” “To be sure, Clara,” said Mrs. Ives—the sparkle became very bright in her eyes as she spoke, and she screwed up her shrewd little mouth until it resembled a round O. “I’ll be careful,” she cried. “Well, then, that’s all right. And now please tell me exactly what you have guessed.” “What I have guessed,” said the old woman coloring. “He ain’t your own child, I know that.” “Of course not, mother: don’t run away with such a wild idea. But that’s not the thought in your mind.” “No, it ain’t; but why should I tell it?” “You must tell it—I insist.” “You’ve got that masterful, you ain’t what you were. I don’t think riches have improved you, but if you want to know really what I do think, there’s somebody as wants to get rid of that child, and you are given money to hide him.”