“I’ll join you in a minute, Roger,” said he to his ward, “but I must go and pay my respects to your mother.”
“Oh, she’ll keep,” said Roger; “I want to hear what you’ve been up to.”
“In five minutes,” said the tutor, going to the drawing-room.
Mrs Ingleton was there, looking pale and fragile, pouring out afternoon tea for Captain Oliphant.
“Why, Mr Armstrong,” said she, “we had given you up for lost; Roger was getting quite melancholy without you.”
“I understood,” began the captain, “when you asked leave—”
“Mrs Ingleton, I must ask you to excuse my long absence. I went to see a dying friend, and was unable to return earlier.”
“You might have written,” said the captain, returning to the charge.
Mr Armstrong screwed his eye-glass round and stared at the speaker.
“I beg your pardon,” said he.