“In the study.”
Jeremy paused. The word “study” had always a strangely disagreeable sound. Their father never wished to see any of them there unless for some very unpleasant purpose. He threw his mind back. What had he been doing? What sin had he within the last day or two committed? He could think of nothing. His parcels had kept him quiet. Both he and Hamlet had been very good.
Only Aunt Amy had spoken to him about sulking. But that had been over a week ago. No, he had been very good. There could be nothing. Nevertheless, he walked down the hall with slow and hesitating step. Hamlet wanted to come with him. He had to stop him. Hamlet sat down near the door and watched him enter with anxious eyes. He did not like Mr. Cole.
The study was a close, dark room lined with book-shelves, rows and rows of theological works all dusty and forlorn. In the middle of the left wall between the book-shelves hung a large photograph of the Forum, Rome, and on the similar space on the other wall a photograph of the Parthenon. Behind a large desk sat Mr. Cole, very thin, very black, very white. His small son stood on the other side of the desk and looked at him.
“Well, my boy, what is it?”
“Helen said you wanted me.” He shifted from one foot to the other and looked anxiously at the Forum.
“Did I? Ah, let me see. . . . What was it? Hum, ha. Ah, yes. Of course. It’s your journey-money. I should have asked you many days ago. I thought your mother had taken it. She had apparently forgotten.”
Journey-money? Of what was he talking? Journey-money?
“What journey-money, father?” Even as he spoke his voice faltered, because, although he still did not know in the least of what his father was speaking, danger hovered suddenly near him like a large black bird, the wings obliterating the dusty light. Mr. Cole, who had much to do, grew a little impatient.
“Yes, yes. The money that we sent to your master for your journey home. Your mother fancied, from what Mr. Thompson wrote to her, that she had not sent quite enough on earlier occasions, that the former sum had not been quite sufficient. This time we sent at least a pound more than the fare demanded.”