“Yes, of course; and now I must be off. I was to be with Master Pawson in half an hour.”
“Off you go, then, my lad. Always keep to your time.”
Roy ran off, and was going straight to Master Pawson’s room in the corner tower, but on the way he met Lady Royland, who took his arm and walked with him out into the square garden.
“Why, mother, you’ve been crying,” said the boy, tenderly.
“Can you see that, my dear?”
“Yes; what is the matter? I know, though. You’re fretting about not hearing from father.”
“Well, is it not enough to make me fret, my boy?” she said, reproachfully.
“Of course! And I’m so thoughtless.”
“Yes, Roy,” said Lady Royland, with a sad smile; “I am afraid you are.”
“I try not to be, mother; I do indeed,” cried Roy; “but tell me—is there anything fresh? Yes; you’ve had some bad news! Then you’ve heard from father.”