“Are they at all alike?” she asked.
“Very much so, I suspect. Both bad men.”
“But I meant in person.”
“Not in the least. Except that they are both tall.”
Again Barbara sank into thought. Richard’s words had surprised her. She was aroused by it from hearing a child’s voice in the next room. She ran into it, and Miss Carlyle immediately fastened the intervening door.
It was little Archibald Carlyle. Joyce had come in with the tray to lay the luncheon, and before she could lock the door, Archibald ran in after her. Barbara lifted him in her arms to carry him back to the nursery.
“Oh, you heavy boy!” she exclaimed.
Archie laughed. “Wilson says that,” he lisped, “if ever she has to carry me.”
“I have brought you a truant, Wilson,” cried Barbara.
“Oh, is it you, Miss Barbara? How are you, miss? Naughty boy!—yes, he ran away without my noticing him—he is got now so that he can open the door.”