"Well, you are a dear good boy, Walter; but you know I was always a little afraid of that Frank Hardy."
"You needn't fear, mother, dear; he tried to laugh me out of joining the evening school, but he did not succeed."
"Thank God he did not, Walter; there are more people turned away from doing what they know to be right by being laughed at than in any other way. I am glad to think you were firm."
"Yes, mother, and I tried to turn him, but didn't succeed either; and Squire Forbes says I must try again."
"You will have opportunities for doing so when you are working together at the bench; but I would rather you did not go to the mill cottage. I cannot tell you all my reasons just now, but you may rest assured that they are good ones."
"Yours always are, mother; but what about little Gracie?"
"The poor child would miss you sadly, Walter, so you can still go and see her once or twice a week, as you may be able to find time. It is the evenings I am afraid of, when Frank takes home Tom Haines, and other bad companions."
"I shall have enough to do of an evening to prepare my lessons, mother; and as for Tom Haines, I fancy he likes me just as little as I like him."
"I should be sorry to see you ever do him or any one else an unkind turn, Walter; but he is no good companion for you. Squire Forbes's gamekeeper was in Springcliffe this afternoon, and called for a little parcel I had ready for the young ladies. He told me there had been another affray with the poachers out at Oaklands; and he says there is a desperate gang of them about, and that he knows, for a certainty, that some young men from Springcliffe have joined them."
"Oh! Mother," cried Walter, "then, perhaps—" He checked himself; whatever suspicions he might have formed, it was not right to utter them, when he had no foundation for them except in his own mind.