It was a bright morning; but now it seemed to Frank Gowan that the world had suddenly turned back. Andrew Forbes met him in the most friendly way after breakfast. He was almost affectionate in his greeting.
“Didn’t dream about the traitors’ heads on Temple Bar, did you?”
“No,” said Frank coldly. “I lay awake and thought about them.”
“Ugh!” ejaculated Andrew, with a shudder. “What gruesome things to take to bed with you. I didn’t; I was so tired that I went off directly and slept like a top.”
Frank looked at him in disgust.
“Hallo! what’s the matter?” cried his fellow-page. “Not well?”
“I was wondering whether you had any conscience.”
“I say, hark at the serious old man!” cried Andrew merrily. “Whatever made you ask that?”
“Because it seemed impossible you could have one, to treat it all so lightly after taking me there last night.”
“I don’t see how you can call it that. You were invited, and you went with me.”