“No, you didn’t. But though there are a great many baronets, they don’t exactly crowd a neighbourhood. What did he say to you?”

“I haven’t seen him yet. I went up to the lodge and the woman looked me all over, curious like, from head to foot, and then she said sir Wilton wasn’t at home, nor likely to be.”

“What a lie!” exclaimed Barbara.

“You know him then, Barbara?”

“Yes. But never mind. I must ask all my questions first, and then it will be your turn. What did you do next?”

“I went away. But I don’t know what I did. How I came to be sitting on that stone inside that gate, I can’t tell. I think I must have gone searching for a place to die in. Then Richard came. I tried hard to keep him from knowing me, but I couldn’t.

“You knew that Richard was there?”

“Where, miss?”

“At the baronet’s place—Mortgrange?”

“Lord, miss! Richard is there?”

“Yes. He’s there mending their books.”

“I knew nothing about him being there, or anywhere else, for I’d lost sight of him. It was mere chance he found me. I didn’t know him till he spoke to me. I heard his step, but I didn’t look up. When I saw who it was I tried to make him leave me. But he wouldn’t. He carried me all the way to the cottage where you found me.”

“Why didn’t you want him to know you? What have you against him?”

“Not a thing, miss! He would be a brother to me if I would let him. It’s a strange story, and I’m not quite sure if I ought to tell it.”

“Are you bound in any way not to tell it?”

“No. She didn’t tell me about it.”

“You mean your mother?”

“No, I mean his mother.”

“I am getting bewildered!” said Barbara.

“You’ll be more bewildered yet when I tell you all!”

She was silent. Barbara saw she was feeling faint.

“How unkind of me to make you talk!” she cried, and ran to get her a cup of milk, which she made her drink slowly.

“I must tell you everything!” said Alice, after lying silent for a moment or two.

“You shall tomorrow,” said Barbara.

“No, I must do it now, please. I must tell you about Richard!”

“Have you known him a long time?”