“Oh, did you hear it too?” Janet cried, clasping her hands. “I don’t think I heard anything. There are queer sounds sometimes about that Harwood house--and old Vicars is queer; don’t you think so? Never mind, Miss Summerhayes, you and I have nothing to do with that.” “I don’t understand what you mean,” said Janet. “I have nothing at all to do with it; but you, who are a great friend of the family, and have known them so long, you ought not to talk like that.” “What am I saying?” said Meredith; “that you and I have nothing to do with the secrets of the family, if they have any. Isn’t that quite true?” “We are not at all in the same position,” said Janet, indignantly. “I am a stranger and the governess. You are their--dear friend.” Mr. Meredith laughed low, with vanity and self-complacence. “Am I a ‘dear friend’?--you flatter me very much, Miss Summerhayes--of Julia, for instance, who says the prettiest things about me. I see you’ve been working in my favor, for she’s no longer so uncivil as she used to be.” “Oh, Mr. Meredith, she means no harm; she’s only so--so----” “Sincere,” he said; “so she is, and I am half sorry you have taught her to mend her ways: for she is less amusing when she behaves like other people. The brother, too--but you’ve not yet made acquaintance with the charming Dolff--I know what will happen to that young man before he has been two days in the house.” “What?” cried Janet. She felt more than ever that the conversation was undesirable; but she was full of curiosity, and her companion had ways and modes of securing the feminine attention. He made great play with those eyes of his, which expressed so much more than his words. Even now he answered her question with them in a way which made Janet blush before he had said a word. “What will happen to him? Oh, I know; but I will not forestall the pleasure of the discovery. I suppose it’s always more or less a pleasure to a young lady when she finds---- Oh, I am not going to say any more. You need not blush, Miss Summerhayes.” “I am not blushing,” cried Janet, angrily, feeling her countenance blaze. “Oh, no, I see; it is only the effect of walking so quickly, which brings the most agreeable color to the cheek. About Mr. Dolff, we shall see what we shall see. But keep your head, whatever you do, Miss Summerhayes, and we shall have some fun. It will be as good as a play.” “You are as good as a play,” cried Janet, indignant, eager to give him a prick in return. “Who, I?” He gave her a momentary stare, then laughed. “We,” he said; “I don’t pretend not to understand. I daresay we give you a good deal of amusement as you sit and make your remarks. I saw the very first night what a keen pair of eyes had come into the scene. But do not be too sure of anything. People who look on don’t always see the whole of the game.” “I think I see a great deal of the game; and I don’t like it at all,” Janet cried.