"Won't you?" said Doreen, with a quiet smile. "Then I must, and I will."
Her brother started and stared at her.
"You! You! What nonsense!"
"It's not nonsense, as you will find when you hear me get permission to go up to town to stay with Aunt Betty."
Max grew sincerely alarmed.
"Look here, Doreen, be reasonable," said he. "You can do no good to Dudley, believe me. He has got into some dreadful mess or other; but it's nothing that you or I or any earthly creature can help him out of. I confess I didn't tell you all I found out when I went up to town. I couldn't. I can't now. But if you will persist, and if nothing else will keep you quietly here, I—well, I promise to go up again. And I'll warrant if I do I shall learn something which will convince even you that you must give up every thought of him."
"Will you promise," said Doreen, solemnly, "to tell me all you find out?"
"No," replied Max, promptly, "I won't promise that. I can't. But I think you can trust me to tell you as much as you ought to know."
With this promise Doreen was obliged to be content. And when, at luncheon time, it was discovered that certain things were wanted from town, and Max offered to go up for them, Doreen and her brother exchanged a look from which she gathered that he would not forget her errand.
Max had plenty of time, while he was being jolted from Datton to Cannon Street, to decide on the best means of carrying out his promise. He decided that a visit to Limehouse, to the neighborhood where the property of the late Mr. Horne had been situated, would be better than another visit to Dudley.