“Why, Chris,” said she, “was that the person they called Mr. Richard? If so, I don’t wonder you liked him better than cousin John.”
But Chris would confess nothing, and rather irritated Lilith by her reticence.
“What do people say about him? How do they account for his having disappeared?”
“Well,” said Lilith, lowering her voice, “they say that he set the place on fire in order to escape, and that he’ll come back some day and murder cousin John!”
“That’s all nonsense,” said Chris, sharply. “A lunatic might do that, but not Dick.”
“Dick, oh!” said Lilith, raising her eyebrows. “You have confessed something at any rate, now, haven’t you?”
But for answer Chris burst into tears, so that Mrs. Abercarne, returning, looked at Lilith with stern reproach.
“I’m so sorry,” said Lilith, penitently; “but, Mrs. Abercarne, it’s really better for her to cry than to lie all day looking as if she wanted to! And oh! I’d nearly forgotten what I came for; mamma sent me to borrow a box of sardines.”
Mrs. Abercarne suppressed a smile at this characteristic errand.