Part 30 (2/2)
”He was only in the house for an hour. That was the day before yesterday. He didn't let me know he was here--he didn't let his sister know--n.o.body knew but Jean!”
”Where was he staying?”
”At an hotel.”
”An hotel!” exclaimed Andrew in horror. ”Going to all that expense, with his house standing waiting for him? That beats everything I've heard yet! Is he there still?”
”No, no, he's not!” she cried, almost sobbing. ”He's gone back to London.”
”Gone back to London!”
”And Jean's gone with him!”
”Jean! Has he not got enough bills to pay at that infernal millionaire's hotel without hers?”
”I don't know,” wailed the lady. ”I don't understand him. I thought he cared for me--and he didn't even let me know he was here!”
In spite of his anger with his erring parent, he was sufficiently master of his emotions to feel a lively concern at all this speech suggested.
”I must get my breakfast,” he observed icily, and was starting for the dining-room.
She collected herself instantly.
”Andrew!” she said, ”you've got to go after him.”
He stared at her, first in extreme surprise, then with an exceedingly sophisticated smile.
”Thank you, I've got my business to attend to.”
”You can go to the office first. There's a train about two.”
”I'll not be on it,” he replied.
”Some one's _got_ to go and fetch him back.”
”It won't be me.”
She looked at him for a moment with an expression which did not interest him. He neither professed to understand women nor to think it worth while trying.
”Very well,” she answered.
They went in to breakfast, but throughout the meal she never referred to Heriot again. Andrew flattered himself he had choked her off _that_ subject.
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