“I think, sir, you had better ask someone else,” he said.
“That’s very stupid of you,” said Collins, with a smile which took the sting from his words. “You only make me believe it was something very dreadful, and I don’t expect it was at all.”
The butler was not sharp, he fell at once.
“Oh, no, sir, not at all, it was only when he was at Oxford. He went off to the ‘Derby’ without leave, and lost a lot of money there. It was what he had for the term, and when he was sent down he had to tell Sir James. He had been rather wild before, and that’s what happened,” he concluded lamely.
“Hum,” muttered Collins. “I see, and nothing has been heard from him for some time?”
“No, sir, he seems to have quite disappeared. I don’t think he is dead, or we should have heard. Still, if you were to advertise for him he might come back. He ought to be here to look after Miss Mabel till she is married.”
Collins looked up sharply.
“Is she engaged, then?” he said.
“Well, not exactly, but how my tongue does go. I must get back to the house.” He moved to go.
“One moment,” said Collins quietly. “You can trust me; who is the fortunate gentleman who is—well—nearly, eh?”