“My poor uncle!”
Jack looked at him with keen scrutiny, mingled with unconcealed scorn.
“I have been waiting for you, in case you wished to say anything before I went.”
“What?” murmured Stephen, with admirably feigned surprise and regret. “You will not go, my dear Jack! not to-night.”
“Yes, to-night,” said Jack quietly. “I couldn’t stop in the house—I shall go to the inn.”
“But——”
“No, thanks!” said Jack, cutting him short.
“Oh, do not thank me,” murmured Stephen, meekly. “I may have no right to offer you hospitality, the house may be yours.”
“Well, I think you could give a pretty good guess on that point,” said Jack, bluntly; “but let that pass. I am going to the ‘Bush.’ If you or Mr. Hudsley want me—where is Hudsley?” he broke off to inquire.
“Mr. Hudsley is up-stairs sealing up the safe and things,” said Stephen humbly. “He wished me to assist him, but I had rather that he should do it alone—perhaps you would go through the house with him?”