"Tells her what?" Fleda inquired. The girl hesitated an instant; she was conscious that she must choose between two risks. She had had a secret and the secret was gone. Owen had one, which was still unbruised, and the greater risk now was that his mother should lay her formidable hand upon it. All Fleda's tenderness for him moved her to protect it; so she faced the smaller peril. "Their delay," she brought herself to reply, "may perhaps be Mona's doing. I mean because he has lost her the things."!

Mrs. Gereth looked hard at her young friend, showing she saw she must believe her. "Then you're perverse, you're wicked. Will you swear he doesn't know?" "Well, if she calls you names."

"But twice?" Mrs. Gereth still smiled. "Oh, that's what I should call it!" Fleda laughed, to her own surprise. "You won't wait for what we may hear?" Mrs. Gereth asked.