He looked up. "Will you promise me definitely that you'll keep it absolutely to yourself?" he asked. "Mother mustn't know, or Dick, or anybody."
"Why not? Neither of them would breathe a word."
"I won't tell it to more than one person. If you won't promise to keep it sacred and give nobody a hint that might put them on the scent, I'll tell somebody else. I must tell somebody, and get advice, as well as money."
"I don't keep things from Dick," said the Squire slowly, "and very seldom from your mother. I'm not a man who likes hugging a secret. If I give you this promise it will be a weight on me. But I'll do it if you assure me that there is some special reason why neither of those two shall be told. I think they ought to be, if it's a question of disgrace, and a way of averting it. I shouldn't like to trust myself to give you the right advice, without consulting them—or at any rate, Dick."
Humphrey considered again. "No, I won't risk it," he said. "Yes; there is a special reason. It is not to be a matter of consultation, except between you and me."
"Very well," said the Squire unwillingly, "I will tell nobody."
"Not even if they see something is wrong, and press you?"
"You have my word, Humphrey," said the Squire simply.
Humphrey wrung his hands together nervously. "Oh, it's a miserable story," he said. "Clark accuses Susan of stealing that necklace from Brummels."
"What!" exclaimed the Squire, horrified.