"Master Tommy, sir. There's a-many 'ave noticed it; don't let 'im get friends wi'——"
"With whom?"
Even in the dusk I could see the dull crimson creep into her cheeks.
"Squire Morris's son," she muttered.
We stood silent and face to face for a minute.
"You understand, sir?"
I remembered, and held out my hand.
"Yes, Liza; I understand. Thank you."
"Good night, sir."