“Yes,” she said vaguely; “it’s Gerald—­”

“So I thought,” Kit remarked.  “Very well.  You had better tell me all you know, or, anyhow, all you can.”

She gave him a quick glance to see what he meant, but his brown face was inscrutable, and with an effort, talking fast in order to finish before her courage failed, she narrated what she had heard.  She could not, of course, tell him all, and, indeed, Mrs. Osborn’s story left much to be explained.

“Ah,” said Kit, “I begin to see a light, although the thing’s not quite plain yet.  Anyhow, your father needs money and must ask his friends.”  He paused and resumed in a voice he tried to make careless:  “Has he asked Thorn?”

Grace hesitated and turned her head as she felt the blood creep into her face.  “Yes; you see, there is nobody else.”

“I’m not sure about that.  However, it looks as if Thorn had not sent his answer yet and there’s not much time to lose.  You expect the man from London to-night?”

Grace said they did and studied Kit while he pondered.  His preoccupied look indicated that he was working out some plan and did not understand how bold she had been.  He did not seem at all surprised that she had come to him.  She had broken the family traditions by giving him her confidence, but she felt happier.

“I’d like to see Gerald,” he said.  “It’s important, and I’ll be at Ashness at four o’clock.  If he will not come, you must let me know.”

“I’ll send him if I can,” said Grace, who got up.  Then she hesitated and looked away across the field.  “Perhaps I ought not to have told you, but I felt I must, and I’m glad I did.”

Kit smiled and after walking to the gate with her went on with his mowing.  Her story left out much he wanted to know, but he thought he saw where it led and would get the rest from Gerald.  This might be difficult, but he meant to insist.

When Grace reached Tarnside she met Gerald on the lawn and took him to the bench under the copper-beech.

“Mr. Askew wants you to go to Ashness at four o’clock,” she said.

“Askew wants me!” Gerald exclaimed, with a start, and Grace thought he looked afraid.  “Why?”

“I don’t know.  He said it was important.”

Gerald looked hard at her.  “Well, I suppose it is important.  But how does he know about the thing?”

“I told him,” Grace answered with forced quietness.

“You told him?” Gerald gasped, and then laughed harshly.  “I knew you had pluck, but didn’t expect this!  You don’t seem to realize what an extravagant thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t; it doesn’t matter.  Will you go?”

Gerald pondered for a few moments and then looked up.  “You owe me nothing, Grace.  In fact, you and mother have often had to pay for my folly; but I want you to be honest now.  I imagine you understand what Alan expects if he helps me out?”

“Yes,” said Grace in a strange hard voice.