When Milly joined me at breakfast, her eyes were red and swollen. She was still sniffing with that little sobbing hiccough, which betrays, even were there no other signs, recent violent weeping. She sat down quite silent.
'Is he worse, Milly?' I enquired, anxiously.
'No, nothing's wrong wi' him; he's right well,' said Milly, fiercely.
'What's the matter then, Milly dear?'
'The poisonous old witch! 'Twas just to tell the Gov'nor how I'd said 'twas Cormoran that came by the po'shay last night.'
'And who is Cormoran?' I enquired.
'Ay, there it is; I'd like to tell, and you want to hear—and I just daren't, for he'll send me off right to a French school—hang it—hang them all!—if I do.'
'And why should Uncle Silas care?' said I, a good deal surprised.
'They're a-tellin' lies.'
'Who?' said I.