'Well, I see he is cared for, Mrs. Egerton, and had better fall in with your wishes. My wife——'
'Your present wife need not be brought into our discussion.'
Mr. Allonby rose to his feet, for Mrs. Egerton's words were bitter and proud.
'I'll see the boy once again before I leave this part, and now I'll wish you good afternoon.'
'I'm coming with you, Father.'
Bobby's voice rang out eagerly, expectantly. He had not a doubt but that he would be taken away at once.
His father looked at him astonished, then smiled and shook his head.
'Oh no, my boy; you belong to your grandmother, not to me. I hear you are going to school soon. I dare say you will find some boys there who will be as hard to tackle as a run-away bull.'
At this juncture Bobby's aunt entered the room, and the little boy slipped away unnoticed to the hall. His small soul was full of agonised dismay and bewilderment. Was this to be the end of all his hopes and expectations? His father did not want him; he said he did not belong to him. This last assertion was like a stab. Bobby stood looking out of the front door, which was open, into the sunny garden beyond, and there the sight of his father's small motor standing puffing away upon the drive filled him suddenly with a desperate resolve.
'I won't be left behind. I will go with father. I don't belong to this old House. I don't belong to grandmother. I belongs to him for ever and ever. Amen!'