a boy--I wish we could continue children always in some things. I hate
suspicion in any body--but more than in any one else, I hate it in
myself. And yet--"

Mr. Beaumont hesitated, and his mother instantly went on with a fluent
panegyric upon the hereditary unsuspiciousness of his temper.

"But, madam, were you not saying something to me about Miss Hunter?"

"Was I?--Oh, I was merely going to say, that I was sorry you did not
know she was going this morning, that you might have taken leave of her,
poor thing!"

"Take leave of her! ma'am: I bowed to her, and wished her a good
morning, when I met her just now, and she told me she was only going to
the hall for a day. Surely no greater leave-taking was requisite, when I
am to see the lady again to-morrow, I presume."

"That is not quite so certain as she thinks, poor soul! I told her I
would send for her again to-morrow, just to keep up her spirits at
leaving me. Walk this way, Edward, under the shade of the trees, for I
am dead with the heat; and you, too, look so hot! I say I am not so sure
that it would be prudent to have her here so much, especially whilst Mr.
Palmer is with us, you know--" Mrs. Beaumont paused, as if waiting for
an assent, or a dissent, or a leading hint how to proceed: but her son
persisting in perverse silence, she was forced to repeat, "You know,
Edward, my dear, you know?"

"I don't know, indeed, ma'am."