Bradbury, my mother barred the door, and dusting a chair, then set it by the table for him. When he sat down, she remained standing facing him; though her eyes seemed to regard him with terror, and her breath came swiftly, she uttered not a word, or asked the purpose of his visit. He looked at her, and smiled to himself; sought his jewelled box in his pocket, and took snuff deliberately. He said at last, “I was not mistaken, Mrs. Howe. The boy’s looks and likeness did not mislead me. p. 34Need I express myself as very happy to renew our acquaintance?”

p. 34

My mother, leaning forward, said slowly, “Since my son told me, sir, of your interest, I did not doubt that you would come here. Let me say only this: that had I dreamt that you would ever come to Chelton, and recognise him so easily, I’d not have stayed in the village. I’d have sought another hiding-place.”

“Mrs. Howe,” he said, smiling, “you’re frank with me. I’m happy that you should be. You will be frank with me in answering all I have to ask you.” She watched him silently; he waved his hand towards me, asking, “Isn’t it time for the lad to be abed?”

“He stays here, Mr. Bradbury,” she answered with composure. “What you may have to say need be no secret from him.”

He nodded, his look expressing satisfaction, but his keen eyes darting at her, as though to read her thought; she continued steadily to watch him. He said, “Your answer gives me confidence, Mrs. Howe. I’m happy that you’re willing that the boy remain.”

“Mr. Bradbury,” cried she, with mounting colour, “pray ask your questions!”

“First let me put this to you—the boy’s father—?”

p. 35“I think him dead. He passed by the name of Richard Howe in London. When he left me I believed at first that he must have returned to his home. He has gone out of my life. I—I cannot think him living”—with a sudden gasp and start of tears. “Mr. Bradbury, you do not come from him?”

p. 35

“Alas no!”

“From whom, then? From them?”

He did not answer, saying, as if he had not heard her question, “To anyone knowing my honoured client, old Mr. Edward Craike, this young gentleman would pass unquestionably as his grandson.—His look would establish his identity as Richard’s son. If—forgive me—proof of your 

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