Charlie was seated on the ground, near her, pulling the ears of his favourite dog, and occasionally talking to her, when a servant came out, with a message that his father wanted to speak to him.
"I expect I shall be back in a few minutes, Ciceley, so don't you wander away till I come.

It is too hot today to be hunting for you, all over the garden, as I did when you hid yourself last week." It was indeed but a short time until he returned.
"My father only wanted to tell me that he is just starting for Bristowe's, and, as it is over twenty miles away, he may not return until tomorrow." "I don't like that man's face who brought the message to you, Charlie." "Don't you ?" the boy said carelessly.

"I have not noticed him much.
He has not been many months with us.
"What are you thinking of ?" he asked, a minute later, seeing that his cousin looked troubled.
"I don't know that I ought to tell you, Charlie.

You know my father does not think the same way as yours about things." "I should rather think he doesn't," Charlie laughed.

"There is no secret about that, Ciceley; but they don't quarrel over it.