My visit to Great Ormond Street was the first of many. In a short time
the office labours with Mr Jabez Rowle were merely the mechanical
rounds of the day; and, like Stephen Hallett, I seemed to live only for
the evening, when I took my Latin exercises and translations to him, he
coming down from the attic, where he worked at some project of his own,
concerning which poor murmuring Mrs Hallett and her daughter were
forbidden to speak, and then returning, after making the corrections.
I felt a good deal of curiosity about that attic, but Mr Hallett had
told me to wait, and I waited patiently, having, young as I was, learned
to school myself to some extent, and devoted myself to my studies, one
thought being always before my mind, namely, that I had to pay Mr
Blakeford all my father's debt, for that I meant to do.
I had grown so much at home now at the Halletts', that, finding the door
open one evening, I walked straight in, knocked twice, and, receiving no
answer, tried the door, which yielded to my touch, swung open, and I
surprised Linny writing a letter, which, with a flaming face, she
shuffled under the blotting-paper, and held up a warning finger, for
Mrs Hallett was fast asleep.
"Where's Mr Hallett?" I said.
"In Bluebeard's chamber," cried Linny playfully; "I'll go and tell him
you are here."
I nodded, thinking how pretty she looked with her flushed cheeks, and
she went softly to the door, but only to come back quickly.
"Antony, dear," she whispered, laying her hand on my shoulder, "you like
me, don't you?"
"Of course I do," I replied.
"Did you see what I was doing?" she continued, busily readjusting my
neckerchief, and then looking me full in the face.
"Yes; you were writing a letter."
She nodded.
"Don't tell Stephen," she whispered.
"I was not going to."
"He would want to know who I was writing to, and ask me such a lot of
questions. You won't tell him, will you?"
"No," I said, "not unless he asks me, and then I must."
"Oh, he won't ask you," she said merrily; "no fear. Now I'll go and
tell him."
I sat down, wondering why she should want to keep things from her
brother, and then watched Mrs Hallett, and lastly began thinking about
the room upstairs--Old Bluebeard's chamber, as Linny playfully called
it--and tried to puzzle out what Stephen Hallett was making. That it
was something to improve his position I was sure, and I had often
thought of what hard work it must be, with so little time at his
disposal, and Mrs Hallett so dead set against what she openly declared
to be a folly, and miserable waste of money.
My musings were brought to an end by the reappearance of Linny, who came
down holding her pretty little white hand to me.
"There, sir," she said, "you may kiss my hand; and mind, you and I have
a secret between us, and you are not to tell."