"You can go now ... if you want to!" I murmured to Ruddington, behind our bush. But he only plucked at my hand, and held it as in a vice, while he listened with all his ears. Susan talked on.
"That old book, with the covers off. But, when I showed it to Miss Langley, she said it didn't sound right, and she wrote out a lovely letter for me to copy, and----"
"Go ahead!" said Gibson.
"And--oh, Tom, I told a lie! I pretended I didn't know I was to copy it out. I thought his Lordship would make fun of my writing and give me up. So I posted it in ... in Miss Langley's writing."
"Lord love us!" put in Gibson, in tones of awe.
"Yes. And Miss Langley was dreadfully angry. But when we'd begun, we had to go on I promised faithful that I would practise my writing; but I didn't play fair."
"So the Missis has been helping him?" demanded Gibson with a blaze of wrath. "The Missis wanted you to have him?"
"No, no! The Missis asked me..."
"Asked what?"
"She asked ... oh, Tom, she asked if I cared for you! And I told a lie, and I said I didn't. Then she helped me. But she put it in all the letters that he must wait, and that he mustn't come after me, and that he mustn't persuade me, and that I wouldn't marry him unless I could be in love with him. No, no, Tom. The Missis has been splendid!"