AT half-past eight Archie reached his home, feeling altogether guilty and uncomfortable. Pride had prevented his returning sooner, otherwise he would undoubtedly have found his way back before Church time. As anger died away, he became sorry for his mother and vexed with himself.
"Well, well—I'll make it up to her now," thought Archie, as he tried to lift the latch.
But the door was fast locked.
This seemed odd. Had Mrs. Stuart gone for a walk so late? She was not in the habit of thus doing, even with Archie for a companion; still less alone.
But the door was unmistakably locked. Archie rapped at the window, and had no response. He could see nothing within, through white blinds and flowering plants, beyond a faint glimmer of firelight.
Was Mrs. Stuart really out? Or did she wish to refuse admittance to her boy?
Somehow Archie could not accept the latter supposition. More likely, on her return from Church, she had gone to a neighbour to inquire after Archie's own whereabouts.
He began to feel thoroughly annoyed and regretful at having stayed absent so many hours.
Well, no doubt she would return in a few minutes. Archie tried the door afresh, without avail. Then he walked up and down the street, keeping watch. He asked one or two women whether they had seen Mrs. Stuart go out, but they had not; and he did not pursue the inquiry. He was not anxious that the uncomfortable state of affairs between his mother and himself should become known.
Thirty minutes passed. Nine strokes from the Church clock sounded solemnly.