“Yes, dear, you. The poor little thing shall not be neglected, I’m determined upon that; and as my situation prevents me, why it is your duty, Claire.”
“Who knows that this is your little girl, May?” said Claire coldly.
“Nobody.”
“Not even the fisherman’s wife?”
“Well, I dare say she thinks something; but those people never say anything so long as you pay them regularly. But there, I dare not stay any longer. There’s a guinea, Claire; it’s all I have to-day. Take that to Mrs Miggles, and see how the darling is. I must be off. I’ll come in to-morrow and hear.”
“May, I cannot—I dare not—try to cloak this shameful story.”
“But you must, I tell you. Now, don’t be so silly. Why, I’d do as much for you.”
“I tell you I dare not do this. I must tell papa—or, there, I’ll be your help in this; I’ll come with you, and you shall confess to Frank.”
“Why, he’d kill me. I know it has been a surprise to you, and you are a bit taken aback, but think about it, and you will see that it is your duty to help me now. Good-bye, Claire dear,” she continued, as she kissed her sister. “Nobody knows anything about this but you, and it is our secret, mind. Good-bye.”
Claire hardly heard the door close as May rustled out of the room, hot and excited by the confidence she had had to make, but evidently quite at her ease, as her bright eyes and smile showed, when she looked up from her carriage and nodded at her sister.