'Nonsense!' said Caffyn briskly; 'you don't really mean that, I know. Why, I'm going away to-morrow to the lakes. I must have a little talk with you before I go.'
'What are you going there for?' said Mark, without much show of interest.
'My health, my boy; old Featherstone has let me out for a fortnight's run, and I'm going to see what mountain air can do for me.'
'And where are you going now?' asked Mark.
'Now? Well, I was going across to see if the Featherstones would give me some lunch, but I'm in no hurry. I'll go wherever you want to go.'
'Thanks,' said Mark, 'but—but I won't take you out of your way.'
'It's not taking me out of my way a bit. I assure you, my boy, and we haven't had a talk together for ages, so come along.'
'I can't,' said Mark, more uncomfortably still. 'I have some—some business which I must see to alone.'
'Odd sort of place this for business! No, no, Master Mark, it won't do; I've got you, and I mean to stick to you; you know what a tactless beggar I can be when I like. Seriously, do you think I can't see there's something wrong? I'm hanged if I think it's safe to let you go about alone while you're looking like this; it isn't any—any hitch at Kensington Park Gardens, is it?' and there was a real anxiety in his tone as he asked this.
'No,' said Mark shortly, 'it's not that.'