Percy to keep a secret what would certainly shut the doors of
Wildtree against him for ever? Was it fair to Mr Rimbolt to accept
this new responsibility without a word? Was it fair to Raby, who would
shrink from him with detestation, did she know the whole story?

Scarfe would have been amply satisfied had he been present to note the
disquietude which ensued for some days after the arrival of his letter.
Jeffreys felt uncomfortable in his intercourse with Mr Rimbolt; he
avoided Raby, and even with Percy he was often unaccountably reserved
and pensive.

"What are you in the blues about?" demanded that quick-sighted young
gentleman on the first day out of doors after his illness. "Are you
sorry I'm all serene again?"

"Rather," said Jeffreys; "it's not been a bad time."

"No more it has; but I must say I don't mind feeling my legs under me.
I shall soon be ready for the top of Wild Pike again. But, I say,
aren't you well? I expect you've been knocking yourself up over me?"

"Not a bit of it; I'm as well as anything." Percy, however, was not
satisfied. He had a vague idea that young gentlemen in love were as a
rule sickly, and by a simple process of reasoning he guessed that
Jeffreys and Raby "had had a row." He therefore took an early
opportunity of mentioning the matter to his cousin, greatly to that
young lady's confusion.

"Raby, I say, look here!" he began, a day or two afterwards, as he and
his cousin were walking together. "What makes you so jolly down on
Jeff?"

"I down on Mr Jeffreys? What do you mean?"

"Well, he's so dismal, I'm certain he's eating his heart out about you!
Why don't you back him up? He's a good enough chap and no end of a
brick, and say what you will, he meant to fish you out that day on the
ice. He went off like a shot directly after the ice cracked."

"Percy, you ridiculous boy!" said Raby, biting her lips; "how can you
talk such nonsense?"

"Oh! but he did," persisted the boy.

"I'm not talking about the ice," said she. "Mr Jeffreys and I are very
good friends; chiefly on your account, too," added she, with a vague
idea of qualifying her admission.

"Oh, ah, that won't wash, you know," said Percy. "Anyhow, it's nonsense
you being so precious stiff with him; I'm sure he's as good as Scarfe."

"Percy, if you cannot talk sense," said Raby, nearly crying with
vexation, "I shall not listen to you."

"Oh, all serene!" responded Percy. "Of course you're bound to make