his grandmother. The threepence he had been able to spend on him
were what remained of sixpence Mr. Innes had given him for an
exercise which he wrote in blank verse instead of in prose--an
achievement of which the school-master was proud, both from his
reverence for Milton, and from his inability to compose a metrical
line himself. And how and when he should ever possess another penny
was even unimaginable. Shargar's shilling was likewise spent. So
Robert could but go on pocketing instead of eating all that he
dared, watching anxiously for opportunity of evading the eyes of his
grandmother. On her dimness of sight, however, he depended too
confidently after all; for either she was not so blind as he thought
she was, or she made up for the defect of her vision by the keenness
of her observation. She saw enough to cause her considerable
annoyance, though it suggested nothing inconsistent with rectitude
on the part of the boy, further than that there was something
underhand going on. One supposition after another arose in the old
lady's brain, and one after another was dismissed as improbable.
First, she tried to persuade herself that he wanted to take the
provisions to school with him, and eat them there--a proceeding of
which she certainly did not approve, but for the reproof of which
she was unwilling to betray the loopholes of her eyes. Next she
concluded, for half a day, that he must have a pair of rabbits
hidden away in some nook or other--possibly in the little strip of
garden belonging to the house. And so conjecture followed
conjecture for a whole week, during which, strange to say, not even
Betty knew that Shargar slept in the house. For so careful and
watchful were the two boys, that although she could not help
suspecting something from the expression and behaviour of Robert,
what that something might be she could not imagine; nor had she and
her mistress as yet exchanged confidences on the subject. Her