“Yes,” she answered, and a shadow crossed the cheerful face.
“Will they banish him?” he said with quick-coming breath. “Mother says so; will they banish him from the country?”
“Yes, perhaps; but it will be to another and a better country,” said Rotha, and dropped her head.
Garth glanced inquiringly into her face. His mother shifted on her stool.
“How, how?” he said, nervously clutching at the bedclothes.
“Why do you bother him, girl?” said Mrs. Garth, turning about. “Rest thee, my lad, rest thee still.”
“Mother,” said Garth, drawing back his head, but never shifting the determination of his gaze from Rotha's face, “what does she mean?”
“Haud thy tongue, Joey.”
“What does she mean, mother?”
“Whisht! Never heed folks that meddle afore they're axt.”