“Yes, I know, Hazy,” he cried hoarsely, and with his lips white; “but tell me, does my mother know? Oh, for pity’s sake, don’t tell poor ma!”
“Do you think it will pain her more than this discovery has pained me?”
“Is that why she isn’t down? Has it made her ill? I meant to have been first and got the letters; but I was so dog-tired last night I overslept myself. I say, Hazel, does she know?”
“She does not know yet; but she must know.”
“No, no! pray don’t tell her! You mustn’t—you shan’t tell her!” he cried. “It would only be making bad worse.”
“And how am I to account for your absence when you are fetched away?”
“I say, Hazel, is it so bad as that?” he cried piteously.
“Yes; I am afraid so. There is no knowing what steps your late employers may take.”
“Set of beastly cads!” muttered Percy.
“For objecting to their clerk’s dishonesty! Shame on you, if you have any shame left.”