Part 83 (1/2)

Rectory, and walked along in deep reverie.

The Rectory hours were early, and he found them at tea: his mother, Rose, and Grace. Grace--Mrs. Akeman by her new name--was spending the evening with them with her baby. The Rector, who had gone out in the afternoon, had not yet returned.

Isaac took his tea and then strolled into the garden. Rose and the baby were making a great noise, and Grace was helping them. It disturbed Isaac in his perplexed thought, and he made a mental vow that if he was ever promoted to a home of his own with babies in it, they should be confined to some top room, out of sight and hearing.

By-and-by, when he was leaning over the gate, looking into the road, Mr.

Hastings came up. Isaac told him that tea was over: but Mr. Hastings said he had taken a cup with one of his paris.h.i.+oners. He had apparently walked home quickly, and he lifted his hat and wiped his brow.

”Glorious weather for the haymaking, Isaac!”

”Is it?” returned Isaac abstractedly.

”_Is it!_” repeated Mr. Hastings. ”Where are your senses, boy?”

Isaac laughed and roused himself. ”I fear they were buried just then, sir. I was thinking of something that has happened at the Bank to-day. A loss has been discovered.”

”A loss?” repeated Mr Hastings. ”A loss of what?”

Isaac explained. He dropped his voice to a low tone, and spoke confidentially. They were leaning over the gate side by side. Mr.

Hastings rather liked to take recreative moments there, exchanging a nod and a word with the pa.s.sers-by. At this hour of the evening, however, the road was generally free.

”How can the deeds have gone?” exclaimed Mr. Hastings. As every one else had said.

”I don't know,” replied Isaac, breaking off a spray from the hedge, and beginning to bite the thorns. ”I suppose it is all right,” he presently added.

”Right in what way?” asked Mr. Hastings.

”I suppose George G.o.dolphin's all right, I mean.”

The words were as an unknown tongue to Mr. Hastings. He did not fathom them. ”You suppose that George G.o.dolphin is all right!” he exclaimed.

”You speak in riddles, Isaac.”

”I cannot say I _suspect_ anything wrong, sir; but the doubt has crossed me. It never would have done so, but for George G.o.dolphin's manner.”

Mr. Hastings turned his penetrating gaze on his son, ”Speak out,” said he. ”Tell me what you mean.”

Isaac did so. He related the circ.u.mstances of the loss; the confused manner he had observed in Mr. George G.o.dolphin, on the visits of Lord Averil, and his reluctance to receive them. One little matter he suppressed: the stolen visit of George to London, and deceit to Maria, relative to it. Isaac did not see what that could have had to do with the loss of the deeds, and his good feeling told him that it was not a pleasant thing to name to his father. Mr. Hastings did not speak for a few minutes.

”Isaac, I see no reasonable grounds for your doubts,” he said at length.

”The Bank is too flouris.h.i.+ng for that. Perhaps you meant only as to George?”

”I can scarcely tell whether I really meant anything,” replied Isaac.

”The doubts arose to me, and I thought I would mention them to you. I dare say my fancy is to blame: it does run riot sometimes.”

A silence ensued. Mr. Hastings broke it. ”With a keen man of business, such as Mr. Thomas G.o.dolphin, at the head of affairs, George could not go far wrong, I should presume. I think he spends enough on his own score, mark you, Isaac; but that has nothing to do with the prosperity of the Bank.”

”Of course not. Unless----”

”Unless what? Why don't you speak out?”