‘Abroad? Oh dear, no! At least, I—. Is there news of his being abroad?’
Mr. Wyvern merely shook his head.
‘As far as we know,’ Mrs. Waltham continued, rather disturbed by the suggestion, ‘he is at Oxford.’
‘A student?’
‘Yes. He is quite a youth—only two-and-twenty.’
There was a knock at the door, and a maid-servant entered to ask if she should lay the table for tea. Mrs. Waltham assented; then, to her visitor—
‘You will do us the pleasure of drinking a cup of tea, Mr. Wyvern? we make a meal of it, in the country way. My boy and girl are sure to be in directly.’
‘I should like to make their acquaintance,’ was the grave response.
‘Alfred, my son,’ the lady proceeded, ‘is with us for his Easter holiday. Belwick is so short a distance away, and yet too far to allow of his living here, unfortunately.’
‘His age?’