s not the money by her, and she dare not ask
papa for it, as it is for Richard. She bade me say that if you will
kindly oblige her with the money to-day, she will arrange with you about
the repayment."
"Do you want it now?" asked Mr. Carlyle. "If so, I must send to the
bank. Dill never keeps much money in the house when I'm away."
"Not until evening. Can you manage to see Richard?"
"It is hazardous," mused Mr. Carlyle; "for him, I mean. Still, if he is
to be in the grove to-night, I may as well be there also. What disguise
is he in?"
"A farm laborer's, the best he could adopt about here, with large black
whiskers. He is stopping about three miles off, he said, in some obscure
hiding-place. And now," continued Barbara, "I want you to advise me; had
I better inform mamma that Richard is here, or not?"
Mr. Carlyle did not understand, and said so.
"I declare I am bewildered," she exclaimed. "I should have premised that
I have not yet told mamma it is Richard himself who is here, but that
he has sent a messenger to beg for this money. Would it be advisable to
acquaint her?"
"Why should you not? I think you ought to do so."
"Then I will; I was fearing the hazard for she is sure to insist upon
seeing him. Richard also wishes for an interview."
"It is only natural. Mrs. Hare must be thankful to hear so far, that he
is safe."
"I never saw anything like it," returned Barbara; "the change is akin
to magic; she says it has put life into her anew. And now for the last
thing; how can we secure papa's absence from home to-night? It must
be accomplished in some way. You know his temper: were I or mamma to
suggest to him, to go and see some friend, or to go to the club, he
would immediately stop at home. Can you devise any plan? You see I
appeal to you in all my troubles," she added, "like I and Anne used to
do when we were children."
It may be questioned if Mr. Carlyle heard the last remark. He had
dropped his eyelids in thought. "Have you told me all?" he asked
presently, lifting them.
"I think so."
"Then I will consider it over, and--"
"I shall not like to come here again," interrupted Barbara. "It--it
might excite suspicions; some one might see me, too, and mention it to
papa. Neither ought you to send to our house."
"Well--contrive to be in the street at four this afternoon. Stay, that's
your dinner hour; be walking up the street at three, three precisely; I
will meet you."
He rose, shook hands
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