"Who is he?" asked Georgina, lowering her voice, with an instinctive conviction that the individual in question was rather near the outside of the door.
"He's nobody," was the reply. "But, nevertheless, he is master of me just now, by virtue of the law. He considers himself a model of consideration and benevolence, and will expect me to acknowledge it substantially: otherwise he would have taken me off pretty quickly."
"Where to?"
"To--it is an ugly word, Georgina--prison."
"Oh! But you will stop that, won't you?"
"Isaac will. The annoying part of the business is, that he should be away just this day of all days. It is rather singular, too, considering that he is at home from year's end to year's end. There's no help for it, however, and here I must stop until he does return, hiding myself like a mouse, lest I should be seen, and the news carried to my mother."
"Can't I help you?--can't I do anything for you?"
"Thank you always, Georgina. You are a good little girl, after all. No, nothing."
She pouted her pretty lips.
"Except keep the secret. And go home again as soon as possible. What would your mamma say if she knew you had come?" he asked.