“No, Piers; but now I’m not going to talk of my own affairs. There is another thing I must say. You are not to set my mother guessing your secret.”
“But why, why?” asked the child in astonishment. “It amuses me and it keeps me from telling it. I’m very dull, you know, very dull indeed. I, who have so much, am now given so little. If it were not that Mrs. Ives takes me out two or three times daily, and if it were not that I always go——”
“Oh, now you are looking really cross. I always walk past Ashley Mansions. I take Mrs. Ives there every day. I stop in front of No. 12, and when I’m there, just at the opposite side of the street, I make her guess harder than ever.”
“This must be put a stop to,” said Clara under her breath. “I have not come back a moment too soon.”
“What is the matter with you, nurse? How queer you look!”
“There’s nothing the matter, dear. Oh, yes, what you did was quite natural, and I—I am not cross. You are going to have a change soon, dear, darling little Piers, a splendid change. Now run into the bedroom and send my mother in.”
“It is fun,” said the boy. “You have secrets with me and secrets with your mother.” He strutted into the bedroom.
“It’s your turn now,” he said to the old lady. “I am to be shut in here while you two talk secrets. I hate secrets, but they’re awful ’citing. Go, Mrs. Ives, and talk to her. She’s a very handsome woman, and she’s a lady, but I do wish she didn’t want us to keep so many secrets.”
“What’s up?” asked Mrs. Ives. “Whisper to me, honey.”
“I think it’s because we walked past Ashley Mansions.” He stopped and clapped his hand to his mouth. “Don’t you remember how I stopped opposite No. 12 and made you guess—don’t you remember?”
“Of course I remember,” said Mrs. Ives, with a toss of her head. “And I can put two and two together as well as most. I’ll have a talk with Clara. Clara may keep things from the rest of the world, but she’s not going to keep them from her old mother. You rest quiet, my little lamb; you and I will be a match for Clara yet, although she is such a fine lady.”
Mrs. Ives went back into the sitting-room. She dropped a mocking curtsey to her daughter.
“A mercy me!” she cried for the third time. “And what’s your ladyship’s pleasure with me?”