But he did not have to search. His grandfather came into the breakfast-room while he was eating, and took a seat near him.
“I want to ask you, my dear boy,” the old man said, in his pleasant, cheery way, “when you thought of returning to Oxford.”
“Why, I thought you knew,” the grandson replied with seeming frankness, “that I had planned to go to-day. However, I may put it off till to-morrow. Had you anything of business to propose?”
“Well, my boy,” the earl answered, with an earnest, yearning look into the dark face before him, “you do not forget that you have passed the age of proper youth—that you are now a free and independent man. Let’s see—you were twenty-one—”
“On the first of June last,” Matthew put in, while his grandfather hesitated.
“Exactly. And I had supposed that your term at college would have been at an end.”
“So it would have been had I not taken an extra pull at some of my studies. But it will be over shortly. I shall come home and take a short rest, and then, I think, I’ll take a run for a year or two on the continent.”
“All right, Oakleigh. I am happy to know that you have a settled plan.”
“Hark ye, my lord,” said the young man, after a brief pause, looking up with a wine-glass in his hand, “I have to say to you, that one of my settled plans has been considerably upset this morning.”
“Ah, how is that?”