It was not with very comfortable feelings that Fred Bingham knocked at Captain Bradshaw's door, for he felt that it was by no means improbable that orders might have been given that he was not to be admitted. The footman, however, opened the door and admitted him as usual.
“Yes, sir, he's in; but he's not well—something wrong, sir,” he added, with the privileged loquacity of an old domestic.
“Oh, indeed!” Fred said, carelessly. “And Miss Heathcote, is she in?”
“She is in, but you won't see her, sir; she's poorly too—kept her room all yesterday and to-day. Master is in his study, sir.”
Fred Bingham braced himself up for a scene as he followed the footman to the study. The servant opened the door, and announced “Mr. Bingham.” Fred entered.
Captain Bradshaw appeared to have been dozing in his easy chair. He looked up, and to Fred's astonishment, instead of saluting him with a torrent of invective, he merely said,—
“Why, Fred, you are soon back again in town. Tired of your honeymoon already?”
Fred was too much surprised to answer at once, and was rapidly revolving in his mind whether this manner was a mere mask assumed by his uncle. However, after a moment's pause, he answered,—
“Not tired at all, uncle; but I had to run up to town for a day on business. I go down to Cromer to-morrow again.”
“I think you might have told me you were going to be married, Fred.”
“Well, uncle, I hate a fuss about these things, and we were married as quietly as possible; so I thought I would say nothing about it until I could tell you that it was all over.”
“Well, well, every one to his taste, every one to his taste,” Captain Bradshaw said, evidently thinking of something else, and then sat in moody thought.
Fred Bingham looked at him in astonishment. What could this mean? Did his uncle intend to keep him in ignorance of his knowledge of the affair of Carry, or was it possible that he did not know after all—that Stephen Walker had only intended to frighten him, and had not been to Captain Bradshaw at all? This hope was dispelled by the old man's next remark.
“The fact is, Fred, I am out of sorts. I have heard a piece of news which has upset me terribly.”
“Yes, Fred, a very bad affair; so bad that I can hardly realise it.”