The boy had looked round him with a cautious glance, and was now standing close to me, with his light blue eyes fixed upon my face in a very earnest way.
'Speak out, Peter,' I said; 'you needn't be afraid of me.'
'It happened when I was ill, you see, miss, and I've sometimes thought as it might be no more than a dream. I had a many dreams while I were lying on that little bed in grandmother's room, wicked dreams, and this might be one of them; and yet it's real-like, and there isn't the muddle in it that there is in the other dreams.'
'What is it, Peter? O, pray, pray be quick!'
'I'm a-coming to it, miss. Is it wicked for folks to kill theirselves?'
'Is it wicked? Of course it is—desperately wicked; a sin that can never be repented of.'
'Then I know one that's going to do it.'
'Who?'
'Mrs. Darrell.'
He gave a solemn nod, and stood staring at me with wide-open awe-stricken eyes.