"It's common sense, Nanny," retorted Clarice, and detailed what Dr. Jerce had said about Ferdy, and what Ferdy had said to her. Mrs. Rebson listened to all this, quite unmoved. "But, of course, you won't believe a word I say against your idol," ended Clarice, bitterly. "Because everyone's against him," cried Mrs. Rebson, wrathfully. "Oh, that Jerce man--I'll Jerce him if he dares to speak against Master Ferdy, who is an angel." "There are two kinds of angels, Nanny, white and black." "Master Ferdy's the kind of angel that plays a harp," said the old dame, with dignity, "and why shouldn't the poor boy amuse himself?" "He'll get into trouble unless he's more careful. Drinking and gambling and sitting up all night with fast people." "I don't believe a word of it," said Mrs. Rebson, energetically. "Dr. Jerce says--" "He's a liar, Miss, and don't come to me with tales of that angel. Why can't you hold your tongue, and think of your future with Mr. Ackworth, who is so fond of you and I hope you'll deserve his fondness." "I'm fond of Ferdy, too, Nanny, and I want him to grow up to be a good man." "He _is_ a good man," said the old nurse, obstinately, "and there's no more growing of that sort needed. Mr. Horran, drat him, keeps the poor boy short of money." "Two hundred a year--" "What's that, when Master Ferdy will have two thousand?" "He won't become possessed of that for two years, Nanny. Meanwhile, he has no right to gamble." "I don't believe he does. Why, he spends all his money in buying books about health and medicine. I gave him five pounds the other day to get some." "Oh, Nanny, your savings again, when you promised me you wouldn't." "I can do what I like with my own, Miss Clarice. Besides, I have made Master Ferdy my heir, so why shouldn't he have the money now, if he likes, bless him." "Nanny," said Clarice, seriously. "You are ruining Ferdy." "Me!" Mrs. Rebson gave an indignant screech. "Me ruin the boy I love so dearly. Jealousy again, Miss Clarice. Go and read the Commandments, Miss, and weep for your sins." "I don't think I'll find 'Honour thy brother' among the Commandments, Nanny," said Clarice, the humorous side of the business striking her; "however, I see it's useless to think you will blame Ferdy." Mrs. Rebson looked round the comfortable little room, and removed her spectacles. "My dear," she said, in a rather shaky voice, "if I must speak plainly to you, I am rather put out about Master Ferdy. Not that it's his fault," added the nurse, hurriedly, "but when one sees him being led away by that hussy--" "Who is that?" asked Clarice, anxiously. "Mrs. Dumps' daughter. Zara, she calls herself, when I know that she was christened simple Sarah. Not that she is simple, my dear, for a more cunning fox isn't to be found, with her red hair--dyed--and her cream complexion and red cheeks, which are nothing but pearl-powder and rouge, drat her, and her mother also, for a fool!"