'I saw something in the papers, and wired to Uncle Howroyd, and he said I had better come back. I meant to come in any case, though, as soon as I saw the papers,' explained George.
'What did the papers say? I haven't seen one, and no one will tell me anything. Uncle Howroyd is worst of all, because, he says, he's a magistrate; but I suppose it's just because I am only a girl, since he will talk to you,' said Sarah.
'He only told me the real facts of the case, and said he thought my place was at home, if only to comfort my mother.' Here George paused a moment, and then continued, 'She seems to miss that little Miss Cunningham. She's been rather lonely these last two days.'
There was a tone of reproach in his voice, and Sarah answered quickly, 'I've been too miserable and worried to talk to any one.'
'I'm afraid the pater will be in a terrific rage about it,' replied George; and, having made his reproach, did not recur to it.
'Will be in a rage? What do you mean? He has been in a rage ever since it happened. He ought to be cooling down by now; but I don't suppose he'll do that till he's got them all in prison,' replied Sarah.
'Then you don't know?' inquired George.
'Know what? Have they been tried and let off? It's too bad of Uncle Howroyd not to tell me, and I wanted so to know,' cried Sarah.
'They can't get a case against them. No one will give evidence, not even the head-gardener; he says he didn't see how the fire began, and it might have been burning weeds that caused it,' said George.
Sarah laughed. 'I am glad!' she exclaimed in a tone of delight.