well," said Flora. "It seems he was all over some great big,
get rich quick scheme--and there was a chance anyone connected with him
might be got at."

"Got at!" Mrs. Barraclough's dark eyes opened a little wider.

"Um! A tough crowd was up against him you see."

"I see." The old lady nodded gravely but there was a sparkle of
excitement in her expression. "So you and Jane and Cynthia and Agnes
are here to protect me against the assaults of--of a 'tough crowd.'"

"We're here if we're wanted," said Jane robustly.

"And somehow," said Flora, "I think we shall be wanted."

Mrs. Barraclough's hands went out and she drew the two girls a little
closer.

"My dears," she said, "I don't know why but lately I've had a pringly
sort of feeling--as if something were going to happen. It's a sense of
adventure perhaps. I used to be a very wild girl myself."

"But you mustn't worry," said Isabel. "It's sure to turn out all
right, you know."

"I'm not worrying. I'm only hoping that if anything does happen I
shall be in it."

"But look here," exclaimed Flora, "that's the very thing he wants to
prevent."

"Yes, yes, but I know my Anthony, bless him. It would be so beautiful
to help him again after all these years." She smiled retrospectively.
"When he was a little boy he was always coming into conflict with his
father. Poor Mr. Barraclough, he was a very austere man and Anthony's
scrapes inspired from him the severest judgments. Tony had a little
signal--he was much too proud to speak--he used to take out his pocket
handkerchief and quite carelessly tie a knot in the centre. Whenever
he did that I used to come to his aid. Dear Tony, I was always the one
to rescue him from difficulty."

"He gets his pluck from you," said Flora.

"His father was a brave man too, until he had a little misfortune with
a mule which rather upset his balance."

"Generally does," Isabel laughed.

"Mental balance," Mrs. Barraclough corrected. "For the last few years
of his life he thought he was Archbishop of Canterbury and if dead
people think I'm sure he believes he is buried in Westminster Abbey.
There, run along, my dears, and leave me to collect my thoughts."

But she kissed Flora and Jane before letting them go. Isabel stayed in
the room.

"So my boy is in danger," said Mrs. Barraclough with the least touch of
tragedy in her voice. Isabel came forward and put an arm around her
neck. "You knew, my dear?"

Isabel nodded