"Why not to-night?" asked Jen, sharply.
"Because I have a suspicion, which I can not prove at present. Battersea gave me a hint, upon which I am determined to work. To-night I may learn the truth."
"From whom?"
"Don't ask me. Uncle Jen; I can't answer you yet."
Jen frowned, then laughed.
"Well, just as you please," he said, raising his eyebrows, "but you are as mysterious as David."
"Why, what about David?"
"Only this, that he has gone up to town without bidding me good-by, save in this short note. I can't understand such conduct."
"Nor I," said Maurice, stretching out his hand. "Please let me read the note. Uncle Jen. I wish to see precisely how it is worded."
The note which the major handed over was curt to the verge of rudeness. It merely stated that the writer had gone to London for a couple of days on business, and would be back as soon as possible. No explanation of what the business might be was given. Maurice did not wonder than Jen was annoyed at receiving such a missive from one whom he regarded in the light of a son; but in handing it back to the major he excused the writer.