"Now, Bernard, boy," said the Colonel, "I have a word to say to you before we go in the house. I have a surprise waiting for you there, but before we go in I want to ask you one thing?"
"What is it?" John asked quietly.
"It's this, Bernard, boy; you haven't been trusting me. You haven't relied upon me as a son should rely on his father."
"In what way, sir?"
"You'll find that out, Bernard, boy, when we get indoors," said the Colonel enigmatically.
John questioned him closely, but he could learn nothing, and presently Gates, the old butler, drew open the door, greeted John with a smile, and took his hat and gloves.
"Your suit-case arrived this morning, sir," he informed John. "I have taken it to your room."
"It's the south room, Bernard, boy," intervened the Colonel; "it's the first time you've had the honour of sleeping in the room that used to be your mother's. But this is a special reunion, Bernard. I had to do something to mark the occasion."
He took John's arm again, and together they ascended to the library, the room in which John had first made his acquaintance. There was something on the Colonel's mind which gave him pleasure, and filled him with an air of humorous mystery.
"When you've seen who's in the library, Bernard," he said, as they drew near the green baize-covered door, "you'll understand what I mean about trusting me better in the future."