At last he gave up making any objection, and determined to believe what everybody said. It was a pleasant augury, at any rate, and he was glad to accept it for a true one.
When all the visitors were gone, and the household had retired for the night, Mr. Bellairs and his former pupil sat together over the drawing-room fire for one last chat. Their talk wandered over all sorts of subjects—small incidents of law business—the prospects of some Cacouna men who had gone to British Columbia—the voyage to England—the position of Hunsdon—and Maurice had been persuading his host to come over next summer for a holiday, when by some chance Percy was alluded to.
"You have not seen or heard anything of him, I suppose?" Mr. Bellairs asked.
"Yes, indeed, I have," Maurice answered, slowly stirring the poker about in the ashes as he spoke. "I met him only the other day in London."
"Met him? Where?"
"On a doorstep——," and he proceeded to describe their meeting.
"I suppose you have heard of his marriage by this time."
"No. I heard from Edward Graham, an old friend of mine, that he was going to be married, but that is the latest news I have of him."
"Oh, well, Payne may have made a mistake. He told me it was coming off in a day or two."
"As likely as not. He might not think it worth while to send us any notice."