“There is only one house here, sir, that you would visit,” he said quietly; “and there is no necessity. You were going to Whittrick’s?”
Sir Philip bent his head.
“Let us go back to the hotel,” said Charley; and without a word they entered the cab Sir Philip had in waiting, and were driven back to Bond-street.
Not a word was spoken during the backward journey; but as soon as they were alone in their private room, Charley placed a chair for his father, and then seated himself opposite to him.
“You were going to have me watched, father,” he said calmly.
“My dear boy—my dear boy, it is for your own sake, and you drive me to it!” exclaimed Sir Philip.
“There is no need, father,” said Charley. “We will have no more estrangement. You have wronged me cruelly to gratify your pride, but—There,” he exclaimed hastily, “I said there was no need for my being watched. I will be open with you as the day: ask me anything you will, and I will answer you freely. To begin with: I have been there this morning for the purpose of having Max Bray watched: one proof—only one more proof, father—of what I am seeking for, and your wishes will be accomplished—there will be no fear of the Vinings’ escutcheon being lowered. One thing more,” he said hoarsely, and forcing his words from his lips, “and I have done; and we will return to Blandfield, where you shall help me to begin life again, father.”
“My dear Charley,” groaned the old man, “if I could but see you happy!”
The young man turned upon him a wistful mournful look before speaking.
“Let the past be now!” he said sternly. “It cannot be altered. Only leave me free for the present—don’t hamper me in any way.”