"The only advice I can give you, Helen, is to tell your father he is there. You can't cover up his tracks, and I don't know anybody except his father who can influence him."
This advice to Helen seemed too explosive, and she felt she could devise some way herself to protect Harry, and she must make him feel that he must never, never do it again. So she remained silent.
When they returned to the drawing-room Robert felt ill at ease. Mrs. Blunt, always sympathetically friendly to him, engaged him in talk; but after a few minutes Robert got up to take his leave, accompanied by Stonewell.
"Weren't you in a bit of a rush, Bob?" inquired Stonewell, glancing keenly at his roommate.
"Perhaps," replied Robert uncomfortably.
"Perhaps you found young Blunt eating pie in the pantry," remarked Stonewell.
"Not that close, Stone, but I guess he was in the house. Now what am I to do? I can just see that before long I'll be in a fix where I'll have to report young Blunt for a bilging offense, the son of the man that has every claim to my gratitude—or else I'll have to go back on the strongest principles I possess. What am I to do, Stone?"
"That's a hard problem; we'll think about it, and perhaps we may be able to intimidate Blunt. Perhaps I may find a means to influence him. By the way, did you know that the first class has late liberty to-night? Penfield is going to play Richard the Third at the Colonial Theatre. It's a great opportunity. I went to the commandant, and our class is going to have eleven-thirty liberty. It's Penfield's best play; and I already have our tickets. Aren't you pleased, Bob?"
Robert looked at his roommate in sheer astonishment. "Well, of all things!" he said. "To think of your knowing that for hours and never mentioning it. Why, I was talking with Mrs. Blunt and Helen about the play and wishing I could go. I'm immensely pleased. But why didn't you speak of it before, Stone?"