"No matter about that. What happened at this precious meeting? Answer me truly, Tommy, for——" he paused, and once more the angry tone softened. "You have neither father nor mother, and I've got to see you through this brash. The truth I must have, so out with it."
"She spoke to me," owned Tommy, reluctantly. "She knew who I was, and asked if I would take a message to Mrs. Craig?"
"Well?"
"Afterwards she was not sure that she had got the message correctly—it was from Miss Boldero, I believe,—and—and——"
"And you had to walk back with her to the Abbey and get it?"
Now this was precisely what had happened, but the dry tone with its covert mockery, stung.
"Certainly I had. I don't know why you should speak to me so, Dr. Craig? I did what every man in my case would have done. And Mrs. Stubbs——"
"That's better. 'Mrs. Stubbs.' Never let me hear 'Leonore' again."
"Dash it, I can manage my own affairs, sir. I—I don't need either your advice or interference. You take advantage of your position, and of—of a moment's weakness on my part. Please to let me alone in future." White, infuriated, and shaking like a reed, the wretched lad struggled desperately for manhood, and his companion was secretly relieved by the outburst.
Here was something to lay hold of at last; some good, honest, fighting blood roused; real anger melted as he assumed its mask.