"I'm afraid you don't love Mr. Hunter," laughed Nellie. "Is it because he has ordered you to clear out?"
"He and Percy between them hatched the dirty plot. They know I want money—"
"A few days ago you were refusing it."
"Ah, but that was tact. The pair of rascals offered to buy the furniture, if I would promise to leave my own home. That was bribery and corruption. They want to get rid of me; they would like me to starve in a ditch, and they would prefer the ditch to have water in it. Hunter's not quite so bad as Percy, I think. Hunter has to be a scoundrel, or he couldn't make a living. But Percy is just a homicidal maniac."
"They are afraid you might try to influence Miss Sophy," suggested Nellie, when she had done laughing.
"It's Percy's doing entirely. He's a common malefactor himself, so he thinks I must be the same. He's not going to have any one else milking his golden goose. Besides, he knows how fond I am of Aunt Sophy, and what great care I take of her. I have saved her from serious injury many a time, and that doesn't suit Percy at all. He wants the dear old lady to fall about, and hurt herself, and die of shock, so that he can get her money, which I hope will be a curse to him."
"I understand the position," said Nellie. "You really are going?" she added.
"I must go," replied George gloomily. "It is hard on both of us, but you must try to be brave, for we shall soon meet again. Aunt Sophy won't live long when she hasn't me to look after her."
"Thank you for another compliment," cried Nellie.
"You deserve them all," said George, with more tenderness than usual.