"It may be as well to let you know now that Mrs. Carrington and I are leaving home next week for some time.
"Indeed, sir? yes, sir." Tynon's face is perfectly impassive, except at the extreme corners of the mouth: these being slightly down-drawn indicate regret and some distress.
"We both feel much disappointed at being obliged to leave home at this particular time the Christmas season being so close at hand; but the business that takes us is important, and will admit of no delay. I shall leave behind me the usual sum of money for the poor, with an additional gift from Mrs. Carrington, which I will trust you and Mrs. Benson" (the housekeeper) "to see properly distributed."
"Thank you, sir: it shall be carefully attended to."
"I am quite sure of that," kindly. Then, with a return to the rather forced and stilted manner that has distinguished his foregoing speech, he goes on: "It is altogether uncertain when we shall be able to come back to Strangemore, as the business of which I speak will necessitate my going abroad; and as Mrs. Carrington's health will not allow her to accompany me, and as she has been ordered change of air, she will go to Hazelton, which she has not seen, and await my return there. You quite understand, Tynon?"
"Perfectly, sir," replies the old butler, with his eyes on the ground. And as I watch him, I know how perfectly indeed he understands, not only what is being said, but also what is not being said.
'Duke weary of lying, draws his hand across his forehead. "You will please let the other servants know of our movements. Although my absence may be more prolonged than I think, I shall wish them all to remain as they now are so that the house may be in readiness to receive us at any moment. But," turning his gaze for the first time fully upon Tynon and speaking very sternly, "I will have no whispering or gossiping about things that don't concern them: mind that. I leave you in charge, Tynon, and I desire that all such conduct be punished with instant dismissal. You hear?"
"Yes, sir; you may be sure there shall be no gossiping or whispering going on in this house."
"I hope not." Then, having noticed the quavering voice and depressed air of this old servitor, who has known him from his youth up, he adds more gently, "you may go now. I know I can trust you. I do not think I have any more directions to give you at present."
Tynon bows in a shaky, dispirited way, and leaves the room. Outside in the dusk of the corridor, I can see him put his hand to his eyes. But he is staunch, and even now compels himself to turn and say, with deference and with a praiseworthy show of ignorance of what the preceding conversation may mean:—-