Lady Grizell made the announcement abruptly. To her surprise it was received in absolute silence. Geordie was, as his aunt herself would have said, “utterly dumbfoundered.” To go to school some day was natural and proper—but to go home.... “Why does father want me now?” asked Geordie in a shaky voice. The Hon. Donald never betrayed any distress at parting from him when he left the Towers—what could it mean?
The child was very like “the family,” he was not at all demonstrative, and he “thought shame” to cry.
He flung his arms round his aunt, holding her so tight that the buttons of his Norfolk jacket made deep dents on her cheek, and Lady Grizell could hear how painfully the little heart was thumping.
There was silence for a minute between these two who understood each other so well; then Geordie asked: “When am I to go, Aunt Grizy?”
“In a week—oh, what shall I do without you, my bonnie man?”
“But I shall come to see you often, shan’t I? Papa won’t want me all the time, and you will ask him to let me come often, won’t you, Aunty?”
Lady Grizell stroked his hair tenderly, but she could not deceive even a child, and she shook her head.
“I’ll ask him, my dear, you may be sure. But I fear he may not be able to grant my request. Unfortunately, there is a subject upon which your father and I cannot agree, and he is vexed with me, and naturally wants his son for himself.”
“Is it that ‘suicide woman’ that is the subject?” asked Geordie breathlessly.
Lady Grizell gazed at him in thunderstruck amazement. “What do you mean, child?”