“I won’t, because I promised, but why do you call her Mrs. Ives? She’s your mother—you _do_ forget your fifth commandment. Well, now I’ll tell you something she says. Every morning the first thing when she gets up she says, ‘Piers, blood is thicker than water; but, Piers,’ she goes on, ‘there is some as has water in their veins instead of blood.’ I don’t know what she means by that, nurse, unless she’s talking about you; but you haven’t water in your veins instead of blood, have you?” “No, dear, my mother could not have meant me. She’s an old woman, and she’s given to talking nonsense.” “There you are, forgetting your fifth commandment again. I tell you I like her very much. She’s not quite as handsome as you, but I think perhaps she’s a better woman than you are. She never tells a lie.” “Piers, you are talking nonsense, and I am angry.” “Angry?” said the child. “Yes, because you talk nonsense. You ought to be satisfied and to trust me. Your own mother and your Cousin Dick and your friend Barbara are far away. Some day, if you are really good, you will see them again, that is, if you trust me; if not——” “If not?” queried the child. “Then, Piers, I shall have to take you away from my mother, and put you with some one else, who will be stern and who won’t listen to any nonsense you may talk. I don’t wish to threaten you, dear little man, for I love you, but I shall have to do it if you go on as you are doing.” “And I have been brave,” said the boy, his brown eyes filling with tears. He clasped his hands and looked straight before him. “I have never told,” he continued. “Each morning when I wake I ask God to help me to keep my secret and not to let me tell a lie. All during the day it’s on the tip of my tongue to say, ‘I’m Sir Piers Pelham, and my mother lives at No. 12 Ashley Mansions, and my Cousin Dick, his other name is Pelham, and my friend Barbara, her other name is Evershed.’ It’s always and always on the tip of my tongue. But I don’t say any of these things because I promised you I wouldn’t. Oh, it’s hard of you to say that you are angry with me. I am a brave boy, and I wouldn’t tell a lie for the world.” “You’re a perfect darling,” said Clara, overcome by the beauty of the child and the magic of his words. She lifted him out of bed and held him in her arms, cuddling him close to her, until at last he fell asleep with his head on her breast. “I would almost die for him,” she thought. “Some day he shall come into his own again; but not yet—not at present. I have Luke to think of. I have almost given up hope of winning Luke’s heart, but I may succeed yet. If so, little Piers, you must keep your secret for a long, long time.” CHAPTER XXII. “YOUR EYES ARE BIG AND BRIGHT.” When the boy was sound asleep Clara went into the room where her mother was waiting for her. “Well, Clary, and how do you think he is?”