"What of it?"
Burton shook his head. "I don't know--yet."
"You still think--?"
"I have postponed thinking till to-morrow. Now I must go up and see Ben for a minute; I told Mrs. Bussey I was coming up. I found that his father is not forgotten up there."
"You must come back and tell me all about it," insisted the doctor. "Stay for luncheon and entertain me. Do!"
Burton shook his head, standing impatiently with his hand on the door-knob. "Thanks, but I can't. I have a full afternoon before me. I am hatching a conspiracy of my own."
"And you won't take me into your confidence?"
"No! You look out for Henry. He's due to arrive any minute." He let himself out, glanced at his watch, and ran up the broad back stairs to Ben's room.
Mrs. Bussey opened the door to admit him with an air of embarrassment which he did not understand until he entered and found that Selby also was in the room. While Burton was surprised, he was glad it had so fallen out. It would save him the necessity of thinking up some excuse for an interview later.
"How are you, Bussey? Good day, Mr. Selby," he said, taking a chair without waiting for further invitation. The men returned his greeting rather ungraciously, and Burton guessed at once that he had interrupted something in the nature of a discussion which had left them at cross-purposes. Selby's face was twitching with nervous anger, and Ben looked as morose as a badgered animal.