“Thomas is to be allowed to follow his choice,” he presently said.
“I had not warned Thomas with regard to a choice; therefore he has been guilty of no disobedience. It is his having chosen as he has, that reminds me to caution you. Be careful, my boy.”
“Well, sir, I have no intention of marrying yet, and I suppose you will not disinherit me for keeping single,” concluded George good-humouredly. He rose to leave the room as he spoke, throwing a merry glance towards Thomas as he did so, who had taken no part whatever in the conversation.
The twilight of the evening had passed, but the moon shone bright and clear, rendering the night nearly as light as day. Janet Godolphin stood on the lawn with Miss Hastings, when George stepped out and joined them.
“Moon-gazing, Janet!”
“Yes,” she answered. “I am going on to the ash-trees.”
George paused before he again spoke. “Why are you going thither?”
“Because,” whispered Janet, glancing uneasily around, “they say the Shadow is there again.”
George himself had heard that it was: had heard it, as you know, from Charlotte Pain. But he chose to make mockery of his sister’s words.
“Some say the moon’s made of green cheese,” quoth he. “Who told you that nonsense?”