Clarice went to the window, and looked out into the white, cold world, with her thoughts fixed anywhere but on the scenery. In fact, she was wondering what was best to be done about Ferdinand, who evidently had become entangled with Sarah Dumps. Dr. Jerce apparently knew of this entanglement, hence Ferdy's fear of him, and dread as to what he might have said. It was useless to talk to Ferdy, who would only go his own way, being obstinate, as all weak people are; while Mr. Horran was too ill to be told of the business. There remained Anthony and Dr. Jerce to help her. The second of these had made things unpleasant by wanting to marry her, so it was difficult to appeal to him for aid. He might demand his price. Finally, in two minutes, Clarice made up her mind to enlist Captain Ackworth on her side. He was not coming this afternoon, as Mrs. Rebson had said, but the next day, so she could speak to him then. Meanwhile, it would be best to be agreeable to Ferdy and keep him at home, lest he should go back to town and to this dreadful girl. Not that Sarah Dumps really was very dreadful, for being shrewd, she was quite respectable, and able to take excellent care of herself. But, naturally, Clarice thought she was dreadful, when Ferdy was in her toils--though what Sarah Dumps could see in poor, weak Ferdy, passed Clarice's comprehension. "Well, deary?" asked Mrs. Rebson, impatiently. "Say nothing to Mr. Horran, or to Ferdy," said Clarice, turning from the window. "I'll see what I can do." "Treat Master Ferdy tenderly," warned Mrs. Rebson. "Oh, yes," replied Miss Baird, indifferently. "Things will come all right, Nanny. Ferdy, after all, is in love with Prudence." "Another hussy," snapped the nurse. "A very clever one, then. She would make Ferdy a good wife, and rule him with a rod of iron." "He doesn't want that, Miss. You can lead him with a silken thread." "I am quite sure Sarah Dumps can," said Clarice, emphatically. "Ferdy can always be led in the way he wishes to go. No, no!" she waved her hand impatiently, "don't defend him any more, Nanny. I agree with you that Ferdy is all sugar-candy and honey. I'll try and put everything right." "And it needs putting right," said Mrs. Rebson, in her most lively tone, "there's going to be trouble--yes, poverty--death--sorrow--disgrace--" "Stop, stop!" cried Clarice, turning pale, "what do you mean?" "The Domestic Prophet--" "Oh, that creature. Pooh!" Clarice was much relieved. "I thought you were in earnest." "The Domestic Prophet always is, deary." "He's a fraud, Nanny. He never prophesies correctly."