(II)
About eleven o'clock a key turned in his outer door and a very smart-looking page-boy came through, after tapping, with a telegram on a salver.
Dick was writing to Hamilton's, in Berners Street, about a question of gray mats for the spare bedroom, and he took the telegram and tore open the envelope with a preoccupied air. Then he uttered a small exclamation.
"Any answer, sir?"
"No. Yes.... Wait a second."
He took a telegraph-form with almost indecent haste, addressed it to John Kirkby, Barham, Yorks, and wrote below:
"Certainly; will expect you dinner and sleep.—Richard Guiseley."
Then, when the boy had gone, he read again the telegram he had received:
"Have received letter from Frank; can probably discover address if I come to town. Can you put me up to-night?—Jack Kirkby, Barham."
He pondered it a minute or so. Then he finished his note to Hamilton's, but it was with a distracted manner. Then for several minutes he walked up and down his rooms with his hands in his jacket-pockets, thinking very deeply. He was reflecting how remarkable it was that he should hear of Frank again just at this time, and was wondering what the next move of Providence would be.