“I wonder if it will?” exclaimed Radmore.  “I don’t see why it should.”

“No, nor do I, excepting that, as time goes on, Timmy has become much more like a normal boy than he used to be.  I’m convinced that very often he pretends to see things that he doesn’t see.  He loves frightening the village people, for instance, and some of them are really afraid of him.  They think he can heal certain simple ailments, and they’re absolutely certain that he can what they call ‘blight’ them!”

“What a very convenient gift,” observed Radmore drily.  “I’ve known a good many people in my time I should have liked to ’blight’!”

Even as he spoke, an unpleasant question was obtruding itself.  Was it possible that Timmy had a “scunner” against poor little Enid Crofton?

“D’you think the child has a jealous disposition?” he asked abruptly.

Miss Pendarth looked round at him, rather surprised by the question.  “He’s never any occasion to be jealous,” she said shortly.  “Betty and Janet both worship him, and so does his old nurse.  I don’t think he cares for anyone else in the world excepting these three.  Perhaps I ought to make an exception in your favour—­from what I’m told he cherishes a romantic affection for you.”

Miss Pendarth went on:  “Mind you—­I think there’s often a touch of malice about the boy!  Timmy wouldn’t be at all averse to doing mischief to anyone he didn’t like, or whom he thought ill of.”

“There are a good many grown-up people of whom one can say that,” observed Radmore.

And then, almost as if the other had seen into his mind, Miss Pendarth, with a touch of significance in her voice, observed musingly:  “I fancy Timmy doesn’t much like the pretty young widow who has taken The Trellis House.  The first evening Mrs. Crofton came to see the Tosswills, she got an awful fright.  Timmy’s dog, Flick, rushed into the room and began snarling and growling at her.  There was a most disagreeable scene, and from what one of the girls said the other day, it seems to have prejudiced the boy against her.”

Radmore looked straight into Miss Pendarth’s face.  Then she hadn’t yet heard about last night?

There was a slight pause.

“Yes,” said Radmore at last.  “I’m afraid that Timmy does dislike Mrs. Crofton.”

“Perhaps,” said Miss Pendarth slowly, “the boy has more reason to dislike her than we know.”  As Radmore said nothing, she went on:  “Mrs. Crofton is behaving in a very wrong, as well as in a very unladylike, way with Jack Tosswill.”

Radmore moved uneasily in his seat.  It was time for him to escape.  This was the Miss Pendarth of long ago—­noted for the spiteful, dangerous things she sometimes said.

He got up.  “Jack certainly goes to see her very often,” he said, “but I don’t think that’s her fault.  Forgive me for saying so, Miss Pendarth, but you know what village gossip is?”