I told no one.

It was bad enough to think of by myself.

I could not have talked about it.

But every day I expected that the Old Squire would send a letter or a policeman, or come himself, and rage and storm, and tell Father.
He never did; and no one seemed to suspect that anything had gone wrong, except that Mother fidgeted because I looked ill, and would show me to Dr.Solomon.It is a good thing doctors tell you what they think is the matter, and don't ask you what you think, for I could not have told him about the Squire.

He said I was below par, and that it was our abominable English climate, and he sent me a bottle of tonic.
And when I had taken half the bottle, and had begun to leave off watching for the policeman, I looked quite well again.