“I believe he is. I shall make inquiries, of course, but I have no doubt they will confirm his story. He brought proofs which appeared to me sufficient; some letters of your father’s, for instance.”
There was a brief pause, while Austin stood thoughtful, and Frances scanned her mother’s face.
“I tell you these things, children,” continued Mrs. Morland composedly, “because I wish you to understand the position clearly, and also my wishes with regard to it. This poor lad is probably your half-brother, but he has been brought up apart from you, and you and he have nothing in common. There are many reasons why I could not possibly allow you to be intimate with him. Such persons have different thoughts and feelings, and use different language, from any I could allow you to become accustomed to.”
Austin looked steadily at his mother.
“I’ve seen Jim East—no! I suppose it’s Jim Morland!—a good many times, Mater. I don’t know about his ‘thoughts and feelings’, but I’ve never heard him say a word you wouldn’t have liked us to listen to.”
Frances saw her brother glance at her for confirmation, and murmured lamely: “No, he always spoke nicely.”
“I am glad to hear it,” said Mrs. Morland drily. “That lessens my regret at having let you both come in contact with your poorer neighbours. Indirectly, we owe all this nuisance to your fads and nonsense, Frances.”
“Mamma,” said the girl, colouring, “Jim’s grandfather evidently meant to send him here some day. Mr. East came to live at Rowdon on purpose.”
“It is horrible to think we have lived under a sort of espionage,” said Mrs. Morland impetuously. “The old man’s conduct, from first to last, was disgraceful. Let me never hear you speak of him again. And let me hear no more of the wretched boy he left behind. Austin and Frances, you will give me your word of honour that you will not again visit Rowdon Smithy, and that if you come across that lad anywhere you will take no sort of notice of him. You understand me?”
Frances murmured a reply.