“Is Mrs. Bradley still in your employ, uncle?”
“Yes, John. I am so used to her that I shouldn’t know how to get along without her.”
Hitherto John Wade had been so occupied with his uncle that he had not observed Frank. But at this moment our hero coughed, involuntarily, and John Wade looked at him. He seemed to be singularly affected. He started perceptibly, and his sallow face blanched, as his eager eyes were fixed on the boy’s face.
“Good heavens!” he muttered to himself. “Who is that boy? How comes he here?”
Frank noticed his intent gaze, and wondered at it, but Mr. Wharton’s eyesight was defective, and he did not perceive his nephew’s excitement.
“I see you have a young visitor, uncle,” said John Wade.
“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Wharton, with a kindly smile. “He spends all his evenings with me.”
“What do you mean, sir?” demanded John Wade, with sudden suspicion and fear. “He seems very young company for——”
“For a man of my years,” said Mr. Wharton, finishing the sentence. “You are right, John. But, you see, my eyes are weak, and I cannot use them for reading in the evening, so it occurred to me to engage a reader.”
“Very true,” said his nephew. He wished to inquire the name of the boy whose appearance had so powerfully impressed him but he determined not to do so at present. What information he sought he preferred to obtain from the housekeeper.