"If that boy next door didn't throw over the box himself, he knows who did it," Kitty declared to her brother after she had given him an account of her interview with Tim.
"Perhaps he was only pretending to know, just to make himself seem important," suggested Bob. "Some fellows are like that. What good have you done by speaking to him, Kitty?"
"None at all," she was bound to admit; "and I wish I had let him be. He seemed sorry my rabbit was dead; but he's a very odd boy, he hardly had a word to say for himself."
"He had plenty of words yesterday when he was in a passion," Bob rejoined with a laugh. "Cook hears that he is Mr. Shuttleworth's nephew, and that he's going to stay here all the summer," he proceeded to explain. "He will have rather a dull time, I should say, for Mr. Shuttleworth doesn't appear to take much notice of him, does he?"
"No, indeed," agreed Kitty. "If he was a nicer boy, he might be friendly with us; but he's a dreadful temper and I believe he tells lies."
"To whom are you giving such a bad character, Kitty?" asked Mrs. Glanville, coming into the room where her children were talking at that moment, holding an open letter in her hand.
"The boy next door, mother," the little girl answered promptly.
"What do you know against him, my dear?"
Kitty told all she knew—of the exhibition of temper Tim had given them on the previous day, and of her suspicion against him, which she was obliged to admit her brother did not share.
"I don't think you ought to jump to the conclusion that the boy has told you an untruth, Kitty," Mrs. Glanville said gravely. "If you have a doubt—well, give him the benefit of the doubt, my dear. Strangely enough I was coming to speak to you about the boy next door. I find Mr. Shuttleworth is his uncle, and that he has come to pay him a long visit because he was very ill a month or so ago, and the doctor has advised his not returning to school for the summer term. His home is in Dublin—"