tle Dolly!" Whereupon Aunt M'riar came in front out at the back, and
listened to a repetition of Dolly's tale while she dried her arms, which
had been in a wash-tub.

"Well, Mo," she said, when Dolly had repeated it, more or less
chaotically, "if you ask me, what I say is--you make our Dave speak out
and tell you, when he's back from school, and say you won't have no
nonsense. For the child is that secretive it's all one's time is worth
to be even with him.... What's the Doctor's stuff for you've been
spending your money on at Ekingses?"

"Only a stimulatin' mixture for to give tone to the system. Dr. Ekings
says it'll do it a world o' good. Never known it fail, he hasn't."

"Have you been having any more alarming symptoms, Mo, and never told
me?"

"Never been better in my life, M'riar. But I thought it was getting on
for time I should have a bottle o' stuff, one sort or other. Don't do to
go too long without a dose, nowadays." Whereupon Aunt M'riar looked
incredulous, and read the label, and smelt the bottle, and put it back
on the mantelshelf. And Uncle Mo asked for the wineglass broke off
short, out of the cupboard; because it was always best to be beforehand,
whether you had anything the matter or not.

Whatever Aunt M'riar said, Dave was not secretive. Probably she meant
communicative, and was referring to the fact that Dave, whenever he was
called on for information, though always prompt to oblige, invariably
made reply to his questioner in an undertone, in recognition of a mutual
confidence, and exclusion from it of the Universe. He had a soul above
the vulgarities of publication. Aunt M'riar merely used a word that
sounded well, irrespective of its meaning--a common literary practice.

Therefore Dave, when applied to by Uncle Mo for particulars of what "the
Man" said, made a statement of which only portions reached the general
public. This was the usual public after supper; for Mr. Alibone's
companionship in an evening pipe was an almost invariable incident at
that hour.

"What's the child a-sayin' of, Mo?" said Aunt M'riar.

"Easy a bit, old Urry Scurry!" said Uncle Mo, drawing on his imagination
for an epithet. "Let me do a bit of listening.... What was it the party
said again, Davy--just _pre_cisely?..." Dave was even less audible than
before in his response to this, and Uncle Mo evidently softened it for
repetition:--"Said if Micky told him any--etceterer--lies he'd rip his
heart out? Was that it, D