you, you have been
on the tramp; you have no money; but you thought your legs would carry
you where your heart wanted to be. Shall I go on?"

"Oh, yes, you may say anything you fancy. Stay, I'll say it for you.
Yesterday I walked to Northbury. Northbury is over twenty miles from
here. I walked every step of the way. In the evening I got there--I was
footsore and weary. I had one and sixpence in my purse, no more for
food, no more for bribes, no more for anything. I went to Northbury to
see the Bertrams--to see that fine lady, that beloved friend of mine,
Mrs. Bertram. She was from home. You probably know where she really was.
I bribed the gatekeeper, and got into the grounds of Rosendale Manor. I
frightened a chit of a schoolgirl, a plain, little, unformed, timorous
creature. She was a Bertram, coming home from a late dissipation. She
spoke of her fright, and gave her sister the cue. About midnight
Catherine Bertram came out to seek me. What's the matter, Grand-dad?"

"Good heavens! Nina, that glib tongue of yours has not been blabbing.
Catherine! What is Miss Bertram's Christian name to you?"

"Never mind. Her Christian name, and she herself also, are a good deal
to me. As to blabbing, I never blab; I saw her, she spoke to me; I slept
at the lodge; I returned home to-day."

"You walked home?"

"Yes, and I am dead tired; I want to go to bed now."

"You can't for a few minutes. I have a few words to say first.
Josephine, I have always been a good grandfather to you."

"Perhaps you have done your best, Grand-dad, but your best has not been
much. I am clothed after a fashion, and fed after a style, and
educated!" she filliped her slender fingers scornfully; "educated! I
belong to the self-taught. Still, after your lights, you have been a
good Grand-dad. Now, what is all this preamble about? I can scarcely
keep my eyes open. If you are not quick your words will soon fall
unregarded, for I shall be in the arms of that god of delight,
Morpheus."

"I have something very important to say, child. I want to lay a command
upon you."

"What is that?"

"You are not to act the spy on the Bertrams again."

"The spy? What do you mean?"

"What I say. You are not to do it. I have made arrangements, and the
Bertrams are to be unmolested. I have given my oath, and you must abide
by it."

"What if I refuse?"

"Then we part company. You go one way, I another. You are truly a
beggar, and can take up no other position withou