The mother glanced at her son. In spite of his utmost efforts he could not conceal his agitation, yet he did manage to say—
"I have seen nothing of Mr. Armstrong's family for weeks, father."
"No, Henry, I daresay not," said his mother, quickly, "you are studying too closely to have time to spare for visiting. Besides, the loss of one little pupil is not a matter of great importance to us."
After a glance at Henry's pale face, Kate Marston took the first opportunity of turning the subject, and though by so doing she enabled her cousin to recover himself and join in the conversation, he very soon left the tea-table.
Mrs. Halford heard the door of his little study close on her son, but that did not deter her from her purpose. As soon as the tea was removed she rose and left the room.
Henry Halford, after leaving the tea-table and locking the door of his study, was for a few moments unable to touch a book. Resting his head on his hands, he gave himself up to reflection.
He had made a venture and failed; and deeply as he felt the mortification caused by Mr. Armstrong's letter, yet in his cooler moments he could clearly see that, in a worldly point of view, his proposal would appear an act of presumption.
He was still sitting in listless idleness, indulging in these painful thoughts, when a knock at the door startled him, and he impatiently exclaimed—
"Who is there?"
"I, your mother, Henry. I want to speak to you."