‘I can’t tell you the rights of it. I never was a clever woman like Emily. From her childhood she learned everything a great deal better than I could ever do. She could learn anything when she was a girl, she was so bright and clever, and I can’t tell you how proud we were of her, John; oh! so proud. There seemed nothing she couldn’t do. Especially her father--he _was_ proud of her. He and she used to talk, and quite go beyond me. But anything that was a discredit she couldn’t bear. I don’t say but what it’s unjust to expect it of us; but I do think it’s best when a woman just puts up with everything, as I was always taught it was my duty to do.’ ‘You speak as if there was something she would not put up with,’ he said. Here Mrs. Sandford looked at him anxiously. ‘Oh, my dear,’ she cried. ‘Some day or other everything is found out in this world. I never put any confidence in secrets for my part. Though they may be ever so carefully kept, they always come out in the end.’ ‘Is there a secret, grandmamma? I had been beginning to fear something of the kind. And they think, perhaps,’ said John, with indignation, ‘that I am a child, and cannot be trusted--that whatever it is I must not know it. But I have always felt there was something. Whatever it is, if it affects us, surely I ought to be told it now.’ Mrs. Sandford had been thoroughly recalled to herself by his words. She cast a glance of terror round her, lest, perhaps, some one might be within hearing. ‘Secret!’ she said. ‘Oh, John, what has put that into your head? Yes, yes; there have been things in the family which were very unpleasant--but they are all past and over, and what is the use of going back upon them? If there was anything you ought to know, you may be sure Emily and her father would have told you. As for me, I am not the one--I am not----’ ‘Grandmamma, you are ill again.’ ‘Oh, no, I’m not ill--not anything to mind. Never take any notice if I cry. I just can’t help it, John. I’m ill, you know, and not very strong. I cry for nothing, because I can’t help it, because I’m old. I have grown a great deal older, don’t you think so, in the last three weeks? and that was why I wanted Emily, partly. There were things I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her about that--don’t you remember, that---- What am I saying? The like of him could have nothing to do with us, nothing at all. Emily! Oh, I want her, I want to tell her something--I want----’