"What is the strange woman like?" Theodore demanded. "And how big is the little boy?"
"Come and see for yourself, Master Theodore," Mrs. Hussey said kindly. "They are having tea in the west parlour. You may as well get the meeting over at once."
Theodore suffered himself to be led downstairs unresistingly, but outside the door his heart failed him, and he drew back.
"Oh, I cannot! I cannot!" he gasped, shrinking against his nurse.
Jane looked alarmed, fearing a scene. She hastily stooped down and kissed him, then knocked at the door, and opening it, pushed him in.
"Master Theodore, sir," she announced, and quickly withdrew.
The west parlour was one of the pleasantest rooms in the house. To-day a bright fire burned in the grate, whilst the air was sweet with the scent of spring flowers, that had been gathered and arranged in large, old-fashioned china bowls on the table and mantlepiece. Old John Bawdon had plucked his choicest blooms in honour of his master and his wife.
Theodore saw his father standing at the window, a tall, rather severe-looking man. He turned at his son's entrance, and addressed him somewhat sharply: "Where have you been, Theodore?"
"In the lumber-room, father."
The child was one who never quibbled or prevaricated, being innately truthful.