He was left alone.
Next came a note in pencil from Mrs Lloyd.
“My dearest Boy—Forgive me; it was for your sake I did all this. Pray be careful, for I fear Humphrey has some suspicion. Do see me, and give me your advice.
“M.J.L.”
“Poor woman!” he muttered, tearing the note bit by bit into tiny fragments. “Her plan is destroyed, save that this niece—my fair cousin, Polly—will sit in the seat she intended, without poor Humphrey is spoiled by prosperity. Poor fellow! It will be a hard trial for him.
“Be careful?” he said, laughing in a strange, harsh fashion. “Does she think I am going to remain her accomplice in this horrible fraud?”
He sat down, then, to think; but his brain was in a whirl, and he gave up in despair.
At last he woke up to the fact that it was growing late, and he remembered that he was to have accompanied the Reas on an expedition that afternoon, and now it was past six. They must have been and returned.
What would poor Tiny think?
A cold, chilling feeling of despair came over him now. What would she think? Yes, how would she take it? All must be over between them now—at least, for some years to come.
A servant announced dinner, and he bade him send it back. Locking the door after him, he sat down in an easy-chair, conscious that several times there had been knocks at the door, but paying no heed whatever.