“Rupert, again! What has Rupert to do with your going to sea?”
“Promise me, then, to keep my secret, and you shall know all; both you and Lucy must give me your words. I know you will not break them, when once given.”
“Promise him, Grace,” said Lucy, in a low tone, and a voice that, even at that age, I could perceive was tremulous. “If we promise, we shall learn everything, and then may have some effect on these headstrong boys by our advice.”
“Boys! You cannot mean, Lucy, that Rupert is not to be a clergyman—your father's assistant; that Rupert means to be a sailor, too?”
“One never knows what boys will do. Let us promise them, dear; then we can better judge.”
“I do” promise you, Miles, “said my sister, in a voice so solemn as almost to frighten me.
“And I, Miles,” added Lucy; but it was so low, I had to lean forward to catch the syllables.
“This is honest and right,”—it was honest, perhaps, but very wrong,—“and it convinces me that you are both reasonable, and will be of use to us. Rupert and I have both made up our minds, and intend to be sailors.”
Exclamations followed from both girls, and another long silence succeeded.
“As for the law, hang all law!” I continued, hemming, and determined to speak like a man. “I never heard of a Wallingford who was a lawyer.”