"An hotel!" exclaimed Andrew in horror. "Going to all that expense, with his house standing waiting for him? That beats everything I've heard yet! Is he there still?"
"No, no, he's not!" she cried, almost sobbing. "He's gone back to London."
"Gone back to London!"
"And Jean's gone with him!"
"Jean! Has he not got enough bills to pay at that infernal millionaire's hotel without hers?"
"I don't know," wailed the lady. "I don't understand him. I thought he cared for me—and he didn't even let me know he was here!"
In spite of his anger with his erring parent, he was sufficiently master of his emotions to feel a lively concern at all this speech suggested.
"I must get my breakfast," he observed icily, and was starting for the dining-room.
She collected herself instantly.