“I will take it upstairs hereafter,” said her husband, “especially,” he added, jocularly, “if Philip is to be trusted to lock the front door.”
Philip smiled, but his smile was not exactly an easy one, for he was every minute apprehensive that it would occur to his father to open the trunk and examine the contents. He did not want this to happen till he was out of the way, for it would be rather a trial to his nerves to hear the announcement made of the loss, while he knew that the missing bonds were concealed in his inside coat pocket.
Philip was in a hurry to see Congreve, and get rid of his troublesome deposit. He hurried through his breakfast, therefore, and rose from the table.
“You’ve eaten very little, Phil,” said his mother.
“Oh, I’m not hungry,” said Philip, carelessly. “I didn’t get up early enough to raise an appetite.”
“You got up as early as usual,” said his father.
“Perhaps reading in the evening didn’t agree with me,” replied Philip, smiling.
“Where are you going?” asked his mother.
“Just out for a walk.”
“Will you call at the grocery store and tell them to send up a barrel of flour?”