“Yes,” said the old woman. Her voice was cowed and she felt frightened.
“Come over here to me, mother. I’ll whisper something to you.”
“You give me the creeps,” began Mrs. Ives.
“Come here, mother, come here.”
The old woman was afraid to stir. Clara rose and went to her, she knelt by her side.
“There are those who want to get rid of the child,” she said in a hoarse whisper, “but with you, mother, he is safe. Now you understand.”
“Yes, I think I do,” said the old woman. She sat back in her chair. She was white and trembling.
CHAPTER XV.
DICK’S SECRET.
Mrs. Pelham mourned for her boy in the deepest black. She gradually recovered her health, but her spirits were low, and she indulged in much weeping. She began to look pale and old, and her friends all pitied her sincerely.
For the first fortnight after the unexpected death of the boy Mrs. Evershed did not dare to visit the unhappy widow. She felt that under such peculiar, such wonderful circumstances, she could scarcely command her own face. The event which was a terrible blow to Mrs. Pelham was life and the resurrection of all things bright and beautiful to Mrs. Evershed. Now, indeed, Dick Pelham was a son-in-law after her own heart. She did not dare to hurry on the wedding too soon, but at the same time she was glad to tell her friends that Barbara was engaged to the dear fellow quite a fortnight before his little cousin died.