His father threw him a keen glance.
“Well, of course,” he said, returning to his paper, “do as you like. I’m certainly not going with him myself, but don’t blame me if he blows up the Houses of Parliament or dams the Thames, or pulls down Nelson’s Monument.”
William’s sorrowful, wistful glance was turned again upon his father.
“I won’t do any of those things, I promise, father,” he said solemnly.
“I don’t see why he shouldn’t go alone,” said Mrs. Brown. “It’s not far, and he’s sure to be good, because he’s looking forward to it so; aren’t you, William?”
“Yes, mother,” said William, with his most inscrutable expression.
So he went alone.
*****
William set off briskly down the street—a neat figure in an Eton suit, an overcoat, a well-fitting cap and patent leather shoes.
His expression had relaxed as soon as the scrutiny of his family was withdrawn. It became expectant and determined.