"Very well, Brandon, you may withdraw, and leave Dean alone with me."
"Mayn't I stay, papa?" asked Brandon, his face elongating with the disappointment he felt at the unexpected exclusion.
"No, it is not necessary, my son."
Brandon went out sulkily, and installed himself at the door with his ear at the keyhole. But he was decidedly nonplussed when Squire Bates, moving softly to the door, opened it unexpectedly, and he nearly tumbled in.
"Didn't I tell you to leave?" demanded his father, sternly.
"I'm going," answered Brandon, in a shamefaced manner.
"How is your uncle, Dean?" asked Squire Bates, resuming his seat at the desk.
"Not very well, Squire Bates. He hasn't been himself since the robbery."
"Oh, ah! Yes. It was, no doubt, quite a shock to him. Let us hope he will soon be himself again."
"I don't think he will be himself till he recovers the money."