"How do you do, Evelyn, my dear?" he said, in an agitated voice. "Can you tell me in which direction your father has gone? Ambrose has been trying to explain to me, but I could not quite make out what he meant, these different turnings in the park are so bewildering."
"Had not you better wait, uncle, till papa comes back?" said Evelyn; "I do not think he can be long now, and you might miss him if you went to meet him."
"Yes," he said, "so I might; I think I will wait."
"You will have luncheon, uncle?" said Evelyn.
"No, no! Indeed, my dear," said her uncle; "no, I had something as I came along—no, I could not touch anything now. I will go downstairs and look if I can see your father coming."
"Is anything the matter, uncle?" asked Evelyn, anxiously. "Are any of them ill at home?"
"Oh no," he said, hurriedly, "no, dear, no one is ill. I just want to see your father on business."
He was very pale and agitated, and looked, Evelyn said, years older than when she had seen him last.
We watched him go out upon the drive again, and look first in one direction and then in another. Then he passed up and down in front of the house for more than half an hour, looking troubled and distressed, and with his eyes fixed on the ground, but glancing up hastily every few minutes to see if his brother was in sight.
At last Sir William appeared, and we saw the brothers meet. They did not come into the house, but they turned into one of the private walks in the park, and paced up and down, backwards and forwards, for more than an hour. Each time that they turned round they came for some little distance within sight of the house, and then they were hidden from our view by the trees, and we could not see them again till they came back to the same place. They seemed to be talking very earnestly, and now and again they stood still and spoke to each other face to face, as though they were arguing some important point, on which they could not agree, or at least could not come to any satisfactory conclusion.