“I like these barns,” Julia said, looking round:  “they are so big and quiet and orderly, somehow so respectable.”

“Respectable!” he repeated, as if he did not approve of the word.  “Is that what you like?  The respectable?”

“Yes, in its place; and its place is here.”

“You think us respectable?”

“Well, are you not?  I think you are the most respectable people in the world.”

She led the way through to the next barn as she spoke.  “You are going here, too, I suppose?” she said.

“I will just look round,” he answered.

They went on together until they came to the last barn of all; while they paused there a moment they heard a rustling and movement in the dark, far corner.  Joost started violently, then he said, “It is a rat, you must not be afraid; it will not run this way.”

“I am not afraid,” Julia said with amusement.  “Do you think I am afraid of rats?”

“Girls often are.”

“Well, I am not,” and it was clear from her manner that she spoke the truth.

“Would you be afraid to come out here alone?” he asked curiously.

“No,” she said; “any night that you like I will come here alone, go through the barns and fasten the doors.”

“I do not believe there are many girls who would do that,” he said; he was thinking of Denah and Anna.

Julia told him there were plenty who would.  As they came back, stopping to fasten each door after them, he remarked, “I think girls are usually brought up with too much protection; I mean girls of our class, they are too much shielded; one has them for the house only; if they were flowers I would call them stove-plants.”

Julia laughed.  “You believe in the emancipation of women then?” she said; “you would rather a woman could take care of herself, and not be afraid, than be womanly?”

“No,” he answered; “I would like them to be both, as you are.”

They had come outside now; she was standing in the misty moon-light, while he stayed to fasten the last door.

“I?” she said; “you seem to think me a paragon—­clever, brave, womanly.  Do you know what I really am?  I am bad; by a long way the wickedest person you have known.”

But he did not believe her, which was perhaps not altogether surprising.

CHAPTER VI

DEBTOR AND CREDITOR

Violet Polkington was married, and, as a consequence, the financial affairs of the family were in a state that can only be described as wonderful.  They were intricately involved, of course, and there was no chance of their being clear again for a year at least; but, also, there was no chance of them being found out, appearances were better than ever.