It was so very rare that the calm, dignified Thomas Ashley was betrayed into anything like demonstrativeness, that William could only stand and look. And while he looked, the door closed on his master.
He went way with all speed, calling at his home. Were the truth to be told, perhaps William was quite as anxious to be back again at Mr. Ashley's as Henry was that he should be there. Scarcely stopping for a word of greeting, he opened a drawer, took from it a small case of fossils, and then searched for something else; something which apparently he could not find.
"Have any of you seen my microscope?" he asked, turning to the group at the table bending over their books.
Jane looked round. "My dear, I lent it to Patience to-day. I suppose she forgot to return it. Gar, will you go and ask her for it?"
"Don't disturb yourself, Gar," said William. "I am going out, and will ask Patience myself."
Patience was alone in her parlour. She returned him the microscope, saying that the reason she had not sent it in was, that she had not had time to use it. "Thee art in evening dress!" she remarked to William.
"I am at Mrs. Ashley's. I have only come out for a few minutes. Thank you. Good night, Patience."
"Wait thee a moment, William. Is Anna ready to come home?"
"No, that she is not. Why?"
"I want to send for her. Samuel Lynn is spending the evening in the town, so I must send Grace. And I don't care to send her late. She will only get talking to John Pembridge, if she goes out after he is home from work."