'I suppose not,' said Leonard in a satisfied tone.
'But why did you ask, my boy?' said the lady.
'Oh, it doesn't matter,' said Leonard, lightly. 'As long as daddy didn't send him it's all right.'
'But what has happened? What sort of a boy is he?'
'Oh, he's all right, I dare say. Boys can't peach, you know, mother.'
And Leonard's light words sent his mother out with an aching heart.
'More trouble, I fear,' she said softly to herself, as she closed the door and went back to the dining-room. 'Poor Dick! poor, dear Dick! What misery he has brought to us all! And yet he was never wicked—only weak.'
The lady buried her face in her handkerchief for a few minutes, but roused herself when she heard the street door open and close, and went and rung the bell for supper to be served.
'You are late to-night, dear,' she said, when her husband entered the room.
'Yes, I have had a busy day, and am as hungry as a hunter. Chicks gone to bed, I suppose, he added, as he looked round the room before going to wash his hands and change his coat for a comfortable hour by his own fireside.