'You knew nothing of this Ryley business, did you?' he murmured.
'Oh, no. Are you sure there's anything in it? I don't think there is for an instant.' And she did not. Even the placing of Milly's hand on Fred Ryley's shoulder in full sight of the street, even this she regarded only as the pretty indiscretion of a child. 'Oh! there's nothing in it,' she repeated.
'Well, there's got to be nothing in it. You must keep an eye on 'em. I won't have it.'
She leaned forward, and, resting her elbows on her knees, put her chin in her long hands. Her bangles disappeared amid lace.
'What's the matter with Fred?' said she. 'He's a relation; and you've said before now that he's a good clerk,'
'He's a decent enough clerk. But he's not for our girls.'
'If it's only money——' she began.
'Money!' John cried. 'He'll have money. Oh! he'll have money right enough. Look here, Nora, I've not told you before, but I'll tell you now. Uncle Meshach's altered his will in favour of young Ryley.'
'Oh! Jack!'
John Stanway stood up, gazing at his wife with an air of martyrised virtue which said: 'There! what do you think of that as a specimen of the worries which I keep to myself?'