"Am I not to speak to him?"
Her father interrogated Hilliston with a look, received a nod, and answered accordingly.
"You can speak to Mr. Tait, if you choose, and no doubt you will be introduced by the vicar to Mr. Larcher. I place no prohibition on your speaking to them, but only warn you to avoid the subject of the Larcher affair. Promise!"
"I promise. I am sorry I ever had anything to do with it."
"Say no more about it, my dear," said Hilliston, patting her shoulder. "How could you be expected to know? But now you have been warned, do not speak more of it. We do not wish the unjustifiable curiosity of these idle young men to be gratified."
"If you assist them to learn that which had better be hidden, you will ruin me," cried Paynton, with a passionate gesture.
"Father! Ruin you?"
"Yes! It means ruin, disgrace—perhaps death! Ah!"
He broke down with a cry, and Hilliston, taking Jenny by the hand, led her to the door.
"Go away, my dear. Your father is ill," he said, in a whisper, and pushing her outside the door, locked it forthwith. Jenny stood in the passage, in an agony of fear and surprise. Ruin! Disgrace! Death! What was the meaning of those terrible words?