"Are you going?" she inquired.

"I think I'd better," said Mr. Catesby, gravely. "Dear mother--"

"You're afraid," said the girl, calmly.

Mr. Catesby coloured and his buoyancy failed him. He felt a little bit
cheap.

"You are brave enough with two women," continued the girl, disdainfully;
"but you had better go if you're afraid."

Mr. Catesby regarded the temptress uneasily. "Would you like me to
stay?" he asked.

"I?" said Miss Truefitt, tossing her head. "No, I don't want you.
Besides, you're frightened."

Mr. Catesby turned, and with a firm step made his way back to the room;
Prudence, with a half-smile, took a chair near the door and regarded her
prisoner with unholy triumph.

"I shouldn't like to be in your shoes," she said, agreeably; "mother has
gone for a policeman."

"Bless her," said Mr. Catesby, fervently. "What had we better say to him
when he comes?"

"You'll be locked up," said Prudence; "and it will serve you right for
your bad behaviour."