"Hush, hush, we will not talk any more about it now. He will not go till after Easter, and that won't be here yet."
Miss Bertram was sorry she had broached the subject, when she saw Roy's distress, and going downstairs sent Dudley up to play with him.
Later on when she was sitting with her mother in the drawing-room a small head appeared. "May I come in, granny?"
It was Dudley, and his round and rosy face was unusually solemn. Marching in he took up his position on the hearth-rug, his back to the fire, and with his hands deep in his pockets, he turned his face rather defiantly toward his grandmother.
"Granny, I'm not going to school without Roy."
"Hoighty-toity! What next, I wonder. Is that the way for little boys to speak to their elders. You will do what you are told as long as you are in my house, as your father did before you."
"It is your stepfather's wish," put in Miss Bertram; "you ought to be willing to obey him."
"Not if he tells me to do something wrong. And I'm sure it would be quite a wrong thing for me to go away from Roy. We have promised never to leave each other till we grow up, and we don't mean to break our promise. And, granny, I'm sure you don't like broken promises. Father doesn't know about Roy, and he can't understand like I do, and it would be very wrong of him if he took me away from Roy!"
Mrs. Bertram put on her glasses and inspected her little grandson with searching eyes.
"That is a most disrespectful speech, Dudley. I shall of course uphold your father's wishes."