“All right,” Jeff replied, and threw the cigarette away. “Now then,” he continued, “I’m going to tell you how it was. I’ve had my eyes open, and I thought for a spell ’twas _you_, as you and Miss Helen rode together so much and sat so much on the north piazza, and talked about them books she didn’t care a cent for, only pretended she did to please you.” “What do you mean?” Craig asked a little sharply, and Jeff replied, “Them books you used to read out loud sometimes. I was waiting for Miss Alice once, and I heard Miss Helen say she hated it like pisen, but she’d got to make b’lieve, you was so _daft_ on him. What does _daft_ mean?” Craig did not answer, but closed his eyes and leaned his head against a projecting stone in the wall. Jeff was lifting the veil and letting in the light, and it hurt him cruelly. “Do you feel worse?” he asked, and Craig replied, “Yes,—no. No matter how I feel. Go on, and never mind the reading.” “I’s only tellin’ you to show how things was, and that if there was any seducin’ it was Miss Helen who did it. Mark was some to blame, of course, but she was most. She is not an atom like t’other one,—Miss Alice. Oh, but she is a dandy, and true as steel. Miss Helen is the handsomest, and when she turns her eyes on you and smiles, you are a goner. And she rolled her eyes at Mark until he didn’t know what he was about, and when she was talkin’ to him in the office, as she did by the half hour when nobody was there, I’ve called him two or three times before he heard me. She used to sit on the piazzer with him after you’d gone to bed, and once she staid there so late her mother called her and asked what she was doin’. “‘Been talkin’ to Mr. Mason,’ she said, and she spoke the _been_ low so her mother couldn’t hear it, and the ‘talkin’ to Mr. Mason’ high, so she could hear. I was lyin’ in the grass and heard her say, laughin’ like, ‘’Tain’t a fib. I have been talking to Mr. Mason.’ I tell you, she’s a clipper.” Craig felt he ought to stop the boy, whose every word was a stab, and he opened his lips to do so, then closed them with the thought, “I may as well hear the whole,” and Jeff went on: “The day you went away she talked ever so long with Mark, and right after supper they started for a walk. Miss Taylor sent me over on the North Ridgefield road on an errant to Miss Nichols, and I staid a while to play hide and coop with the boys, and then started home. As I got near the haunted house the moon was shinin’ so bright that I said to myself, ‘I mean to go in and mabby I’ll see the woman who, they say, walks there wringin’ her hands.’ I ain’t a bit afraid, and I went along the lane on the grass till I got near a window, or where one used to be. Then I heard voices very low, almost a whisper. I knew it wasn’t the ghost, and I crept up still as I could and looked in, and who do you s’pose was there?”