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"If she has an inkling she is bearing it very well," said Mrs. Mitford. "My dear," she added, turning to her husband, who came into the room at that moment, "Miss Thompson is talking about our dear Christian. She says that the child seems to guess that something is happening."

"I am sure she guesses," said Miss Thompson, blushing and trembling a little at her own audacity. "She looks at me with such very questioning eyes, and tries to lead me on, as it were, to betray myself."

Mr. Mitford laughed. "Just like Chris," he said. "She always was a bit of an oddity. But, my dear," he added, turning to his wife, "we will not tell her, all the same. I couldn't stand the thought of the child crying and moaning for the last few days. She may guess—although I don't think she can really—but she is not to be told. Understand, Miss Thompson, the child is not on any account to be told."

"Now listen," said Mrs. Mitford as Miss Thompson was leaving the room; "you needn't keep her to her lessons. You may take her to the Zoo or to Maskelyne and Cook's this morning—anywhere just to give her a bit of fun. Keep her out as much as you can."