‘I sent to him yesterday afternoon asking help, and he has given no answer yet.’
‘But he will do it. Take heart and trust him. But there must be something wrong about this, Philip—that such a fortune should slip through thy fingers so quickly.’
‘Yes, there is something wrong; and I am trying to find out what it is, and where it is. I will find it out before long. But I am anxious to get back to town, and I want to see Madge for a few minutes. That was what brought me out.’
‘There’s a pity now! She’s gone to London all in a hurry after the post came in. I thought she was going to see thee.’
‘I sent no letter last night,’ said Philip, chilled with chagrin and disappointment. ‘Did she say that she was going to see me?’
‘Yes, and with good news; but if she finds thee looking as glum as thou art now, she’ll be frightened;’ and the dame tried to smile. Her soft kindly voice soothed him, although her words conveyed little comfort.
‘Where is Uncle Dick?’ he inquired after a brief pause.
‘He is away to the inspector about the cattle he is sending to Smithfield. I do hope he’ll get a prize; he has so set his heart on it.’
At any other time, Philip would have cordially sympathised with that good wish: at present, he scarcely noticed it.
‘I shall not see him to-day, then.... What time did Madge go?’