"Then Lady Fleetwood told you that she had informed me of your expedition?" said Mr. Scriven in an inquiring tone, but with such perfect composure that it provoked his nephew.
"Not so," replied Charles: "I divined it from her usual conduct, and felt sure of it when I found that you had forestalled me in my object."
Mr. Scriven remained silent for a moment, but then he replied, quite unmoved--
"Your combinations are good, Charles, but sometimes may be mistaken, and are always rather too hasty."
"The simple question is this, my dear uncle," said Charles: "did Lady Fleetwood inform you or not that I had discovered poor Miss Hayley in very great misery not far from Frimley, and that I intended to go down yesterday, have her brought to town, and see that she was properly taken care of? and did you not set off immediately and carry her away to a madhouse?"
"Who puts the question?" asked Mr. Scriven, with his usual equable manner.
"I do," answered Charles.
"Rather respectful from a nephew to an uncle," replied Mr. Scriven, drily; "and now, my dear Charles, to more serious matters. I wrote to you to come over immediately, as I wanted to see you----"
Charles was angry at the somewhat contemptuous brevity with which his uncle dismissed the subject.
"You will excuse me, sir," he said; "but I wish for an answer to my question before we enter upon any other matter."