"Oh, jolly!" said the boy, "it's ever so much better being here than at my school in Melbourne. Oh! I shall be happy, especially when uncle Henry comes home."
And so it was settled that during their father's absence his children should remain at Kilburn under their grandfather's roof.
"I must make a home for them as soon as I can turn myself round," he said a few hours after, when talking the matter over with Kate Marston. "I have to settle the business which brought me to England, and to ascertain what claim I have on my wife's property."
"What! did you not do so before you married her?" asked Kate, in astonishment.
"No," he replied, "she was very reticent on the subject, and I did not like to question her, or indeed her friends—she appeared to have perfect control over her property. However, she may have left a will. At all events, I must go to the apartments I have taken for three months, and look over her papers. Unfortunately, her lawyer is in Australia, and he may have a will in his possession. But, dear Kate," he continued, with a shudder, "her death is so recent, and the money subject too painful to be talked about yet. I know you will take care of my children, and that is a great relief to my mind."
"Indeed, indeed I will," she replied in a tone of sympathy; the paleness and the shudder had not escaped her. Had she known the pangs of conscience which caused that shudder, horror instead of sympathy would have filled her heart.
And yet the conscience of Arthur Franklyn could only at times arouse him to doubt the rectitude of his own conduct. By fallacious arguments, and false reasoning with himself, he had acquired confused ideas of right and wrong. He had still at times the appearance of being under the effects of some powerful sedative; and at others the flashing eye and the flushed face would have denoted the presence of some strong stimulant to less unsuspecting people than the residents at the Grange.
Arthur Franklyn with all his faults had never given way to intemperance, therefore the brandy flask which he now carried in his pocket or kept locked up in his bedroom was more potent in its effects, leaving behind it, after the first moments of excitement, an opiate-like stupor and stolidity of manner, very unlike that of the bright and fascinating Arthur Franklyn of former times.
When he left the little breakfast-parlour, in which we first met three of the residents of Englefield Grange, Dr. Halford and Kate Marston were alone.
"Uncle," said the latter, "Arthur is very much changed since the death of his second wife."