Jenny opened her eyes wide.

“Oh, I don’t think so. No, I’m sure they didn’t know. And he’d forgotten about it being Sunday, and of course they’d be going to church. It wasn’t very clever of him-I told him so.”

“And what did he say to that?”

“He just laughed,” said Jenny. “And of course it didn’t really matter, because he didn’t go there after all. He took me to Miss Danesworth’s instead.”

They had arrived at the gate of the cottage. Miss Silver stood between Jenny and the gate.

“And what did Miss Danesworth say?”

“I don’t know what she said to Richard. She was sweet to me.”

“My dear, I must ask you one thing.”

“Yes, Miss Silver?”

“It is this. Have you never heard from these Forbeses? Did they never try to trace you?”

“No, they didn’t.”

Miss Silver looked graver than ever.

“I find that a very singular thing. You did not leave a note, or tell them where you had gone?”

Jenny said, “No, I didn’t. I didn’t know where I was going.” She wondered why Miss Silver was asking these things. A feeling of distress rose in her. “Why-why do you ask?”

“I am going to ask something else. I am going to ask you how old you are.”

Jenny answered her quite simply.

“I was seventeen in August.”

“Then, my dear, do you not think that Mrs. Forbes should have taken some steps to find you?”

“I didn’t want her to find me,” said Jenny.

Miss Silver was very much shocked. She was accustomed to judging character, and she thought that Jenny was both truthful and innocent.

And then Jenny said, “I expect they knew where I was. Mrs. Merridew writes to her cousin who lives at Alingford. She must have told her, because Meg knew. She is one of the little girls. She wrote to me.”

“When did you get the letter?” said Miss Silver quickly.

“It came yesterday morning, and when Richard and Caroline saw it they said that I ought to write to Mrs. Forbes. So I wrote to her-” Jenny paused, steadying herself. “I said that I had heard what Mac said to her the night I went away. I said that I didn’t mean to listen. I said I had heard everything, and when I had heard it I couldn’t get up and show myself. I said I was staying here with Richard’s aunt Miss Danesworth. And I said that Richard had gone to Somerset House in London and got a copy of my father and mother’s marriage certificate. And I signed the letter Jenny Forbes. It felt very strange, because I had never written it before, but I thought that I ought to. So you see, if everyone knew, then it wasn’t a secret any more, was it? And if Meg could write to me, then Mrs. Forbes could have written, or-or Mac. That’s what frightens me, Miss Silver. Why don’t they say anything?”

Miss Silver said, “I don’t know, my dear.”

They went together into the house.

Chapter XXXIX

Miss Silver had tea at Miss Danesworth’s. Richard was not there. He had gone to London, and she had a very pleasant time with Miss Danesworth and Jenny. After tea she enquired the way to Mrs. Pratt’s, and Jenny at once offered to go with her. Miss Silver thought for a while, and then accepted the offer.

It was bad luck for Dicky that things turned out as they did. On most afternoons he would not have been there at all. On this particular day he was there, because he had come in to wait for Stuffy Craddock who was going to pick him up when he had had his tea. Stuffy wouldn’t miss his tea, not if it was ever so, and Mrs. Craddock wouldn’t have let him miss it either. Dicky thought with assurance how much more fortunate he was himself. His mother never noticed whether he was in or not. And then quite suddenly he had a curious lonely feeling, and he set his chin and whistled quite loudly to keep up his spirits.

Mrs. Pratt was out. She wouldn’t be home for another hour. She wasn’t a good worker, but she managed to get enough work to keep her going. People were sorry for her, and she didn’t do too badly under strict supervision.

Miss Silver and Jenny came to the door of Mrs. Pratt’s cottage and heard Dicky whistling.

“He’s there,” said Jenny. “I was afraid he mightn’t be. They don’t have any regular times for meals.”

Miss Silver looked shocked.

“Do you think that this boy’s word is to be relied on?” she said.

“No, I don’t,” said Jenny frankly. “I think he’ll twist and lie if he can. That’s why I offered to come with you.” She knocked on the door as she spoke, and the whistling stopped instantly.

After a moment steps could be heard descending the stairs. A pause, and the door was opened. An untidy, shabby boy stood there. He smiled and his face lit up. His very blue eyes beamed on them.

“My mother’s out,” he said. “Can I take a message?”

There was nothing to show that he recognized Jenny, yet he had done so at once. She said quite directly,

“Hullo, Dicky. It’s you we want to see, not your mother. Can we come in? This is Miss Silver.”

“How do you do, Dicky?” said Miss Silver.

Dicky gave back her “How do you do?” His mind was racing. He knew who Miss Silver was, and knowing that, he could guess why she had come to see him. The question was, did he tell what he knew, or didn’t he? He wasn’t at all sure. With a sense of the fitness of things he led the way, not into the dirty, crowded, and disordered kitchen, but into the front room, never used and dreadfully neat. Four chairs stood with their backs to the wall, and a hard unyielding sofa stood with its back to the window. The curtains were neither clean nor dirty. They had hung there since James Pratt had been carried home dead-untouched and disregarded over the years that had passed since then. To Dicky the room was a very fine one. He showed an immense pride in it. The stuffy atmosphere and the film of dust over everything merely marked it out as a place apart.

Having taken them into this room, he shut the door and leaned against it, his smile subdued by the importance of the occasion and by its setting. His blue eyes were soft and pensive. He was thinking very hard, and what he thought was, “They want something, else they wouldn’t be here. What do they want? If I listen I shall find out.”

He glanced up at Miss Silver. It was a look to melt the heart of any old lady, he knew that. But the look was met by a gaze so clear and so alarming that it was all he could do to hold on to the innocence of his smile. He would have backed away a little, but he was already against the door. In his mind he was saying, “What jer want? I’ve done nothing, I haven’t. What jer want to come down on me for?” but he kept the words in.

Miss Silver spoke. She said his name.

“Dicky-”

Her tone steadied him. He smiled with an effect of shyness.

“Dicky, I have heard that you are a very intelligent boy. I wonder if you are intelligent enough to realize that it is better to keep on the right side of the law.”

Dicky swallowed and said, “Is it?”

Miss Silver smiled.

“You will find that out for yourself,” she said. “It is very easy to pull things crooked and to make an effect, and that is what starts a boy going wrong.”

“Is it?” said Dicky in a tone of limpid innocence.

“Yes,” said Miss Silver on an assured note. “Now you, Dicky, are at the parting of the ways. You can tell the truth and be praised for it, or you can tell lies which will be found out, and which will destroy your character.”

Dicky hastened to put his best foot forward.

“I wouldn’t tell no lies,” he said. “Not if it was ever so.”

Miss Silver nodded approvingly.

“I shall know if you do,” she said.

And quite suddenly Dicky felt it in his bones that she would. It was a very alarming feeling. He had never had it with anyone before, and he didn’t like it at all. If he had been outside the house he would have yielded to his instinct and have run away. He could have kept out of sight until the old lady had gone. He could-he couldn’t do anything- not really. He was a fool to have got up against the door like he had. If he turned round to open it she’d have him, and the girl would come and help her.