“Miss Graeme!”
“I thought you a nice frank boy, and that you would be our friend.”
“Celia, my child,” whispered Lady Graeme reproachfully.
“I can’t help it, mamma. I wanted to help him, but he would keep saying that he must tell of papa because it was his duty.”
“Yes,” said Archy bluntly; “and so it was.”
“Yes,” said Lady Graeme, “it was.”
“Oh, mamma dear, pray don’t say that. And now he has come with his hateful men to take papa to prison, and—”
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, Sir Risdon, of course, I must write my despatch. But you have given me your word of honour as a gentleman that you never engaged in these contraband practices.”
These words reached the little group, and also Sir Risdon’s reply:
“I swear it, sir; and it was only—”