‘I’ll never do it again, pa—never!’
‘No, never be disobedient, nor fight with girls. But what were you saying about the Holt?’
‘I shall live here—I shall have it for my own.’
‘Who told you so?’
‘Granma.’
‘Grandmamma knows nothing about it.’
‘Shan’t I, then?’
‘Never! Listen, Owen. This is Miss Charlecote’s house as long as she lives—I trust till long after you are a man. It will be Mr. Randolf’s afterwards, and neither you nor I have anything to do with it.’
The two great black eyes looked up in inquiring, disappointed intelligence. Then he said, in a satisfied tone—
‘We ain’t beggars—we don’t carry rabbit-skins and lucifers!’