"Quite true, dearest; I understand what you mean, and know how good you are. But perhaps Mr. Prendergast might not. He might think you wanted—"
"Wanted what, mother? I don't understand you."
"Wanted to take the things out of your father's hands."
"Oh, mother!"
"He doesn't know you. And, what is more, I don't think he knows much of your father. Don't go to him yet." And Herbert promised that he would not.
"And you don't think that this man was ever here before?" he asked.
"Well, I rather think he was here once before; many years ago—soon after you went to school."
"So long ago as that?"
"Yes; not that I remember him, or, indeed, ever knew of his coming then, if he did come. But Jones says that she thinks she remembers him."
"Did Jones see him now?"