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"What do you mean?"
She pointed to the window!
Tommy was in his night-s.h.i.+rt, with the white rat running over his shoulders.
"Well?"
"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."
"Good night."
She ran, with light footsteps, down the lane, and I stood alone beneath the poplars.
Far up into the deepening sky they reached, like still black sentinels, and between them glimmered a few early stars. In his bedroom I could see Tommy, holding the white rat in one hand and kneeling a moment at his very transient prayers.
I remembered a day whereon the colonel's riding-whip had been laid about Squire Morris's shoulders.
My heart beat high at the thought, for the squire had insulted one whose sweet face had long lain still. I thought of the son.
"Poor Liza," I murmured, and lifted the garden latch.
And as I looked up at Tommy's darkened window:
"G.o.d forbid," I said.
Next morning I called Tommy aside.
"Do you know young Morris, of Borcombe?"
He nodded.
"Tommy, I--I wish you would endeavour to avoid him in the future. He is no fit companion for you."
"Why?"
"I--you would not understand yet, Tommy; you must take my word for it."
Tommy looked a little sullen.
"He's a jolly good sort," he said. "I know him well; he's a jolly good sort."
"I am asking you, Tommy,"--I hesitated then. "For your father's sake," I added.
Tommy looked straight into my eyes.
"He was a friend of father's," he said, quietly.
"Your father thrashed the squire with his own hand; I saw him do it."
Tommy stood very still.
"Why?"
"I--I cannot explain it exactly; you must take my word."
Tommy turned on his heels.
"He's a jolly good sort," he muttered.
"But you must not make him a friend."
Tommy was silent, kicking at the carpet.
"I shall if I like," he said, presently; and that was the last word.
And it was only when I came back, rather sadly, from the station that I remembered the doctor's words and found a meaning for them.
"Oh, what a fool I am!" I said.
XI
IN WHICH TOMMY IS IN PERIL
Tommy spent his Christmas in town, with a distant relative, for I had been called abroad upon a matter of business, and his Easter holidays, since I was still away, were pa.s.sed in Camslove vicarage.
It was, therefore, a year before I saw Tommy again, and on an August morning I met him at the little station.
