"Is this Crailey Gray?
What's the trouble ?" "Nothing," replied Crailey, quietly.

"Only don't go, you've lost enough." "Well, you're a beautiful one!" Jefferson exclaimed, with an incredulous laugh.

"You're a master hand; you, to talk about losing enough!" "I know, I know," Crailey began, shaking his head, "but--" "You've promised Fanchon never to go again, and you're afraid Miss Betty will see or hear us, and tell her you were there." "I don't know Miss Carewe." "Then you needn't fear; besides, she'll be out when we come, and asleep when we go.

She will never know we've been in the house." "That has nothing to do with it," said Crailey, impatiently; and he was the more earnest because he remembered the dangerous geography of the Carewe house, which made it impossible for anyone to leave the cupola-room except by the long hall which passed certain doors.

"I will not go, and what's more, I promised Fanchon I'd try to keep you out of it hereafter." "Lord, but we're virtuous!" laughed the incredulous Jefferson.