"Was that hint at the watchful eyes and ears, and the soft footsteps,
really an allusion to Mr. Meadowcroft's daughter?" I asked.

"Of course it was. Ah! she has imposed on you as she imposes on
everybody else. The false wretch! She is secretly at the bottom of half
the bad feeling among the men. I am certain of it--she keeps Mr.
Meadowcroft's mind bitter toward the boys. Old as she is, Mr. Lefrank,
and ugly as she is, she wouldn't object (if she could only make him ask
her) to be John Jago's second wife. No, sir; and she wouldn't break her
heart if the boys were not left a stick or a stone on the farm when the
father dies. I have watched her, and I know it. Ah! I could tell you
such things! But there's no time now--it's close on ten o'clock; we
must say good-night. I am right glad I have spoken to you, sir. I say
again, at parting, what I have said already: Use your influence, pray
use your influence, to soften them, and to make them ashamed of
themselves, in this wicked house. We will have more talk about what you
can do to-morrow, when you are shown over the farm. Say good-by now.
Hark! there is ten striking! And look! here is John Jago stealing out
again in the shadow of the tree! Good-night, friend Lefrank; and
pleasant dreams."

With one hand she took mine, and pressed it cordially; with the other
she pushed me away without ceremony in the direction of the house. A
charming girl--an irresistible girl! I was nearly as bad as the boys. I
declare, _I_ almost hated John Jago, too, as we crossed each other in
the shadow of the tree.

Arrived at the glass door, I stopped and looked back at the gravelwalk.

They had met. I saw the two shadowy figures slowly pacing backward and