The child hesitated a moment.
“I’m Bertie,” he said, slowly.
“Bertie what?”
He shook his head.
“That’s all—only Bertie. I live with the Squire now.”
“You do, do you? You’re a little chap anyhow. I wonder who you are?”
“I don’t know myself,” answered Bertie, with great gravity; “and nobody else knows either. But I know who you are; you must be Queenie’s brother, you are so like her.”
Phil’s face put on a look of horror.
“Gracious goodness! I am betrayed! What will become of me now?”
Bertie was extremely puzzled; but he had a composed manner that concealed his bewilderment very well.