"You are early, my boy," he said. "I did not expect to see you for
hours yet; couldn't you sleep? You look rather tired, Stafford; you
were late last night, and--ah, well! there was some excuse for a little
excitement and exaltation."
He smiled whimsically, as a father does at a son who has for once gone
beyond the strict bounds of moderation and looked upon the wine cup too
often.
"Yes, I've rather a head on this morning, sir," said Stafford, quietly,
accepting the suggestion as an excuse for his ill-looks. "I drank and
smoked, last night, more than I usually do. You look as fresh as usual,
sir," he added, with unconscious irony.
Sir Stephen threw up his head with a short laugh.
"Oh, my work wasn't finished last night, my dear boy!" he said. "And
Murray and I have been at it since seven o'clock. I want to put some of
these papers straight before Griffenberg and the rest leave to-day."
"They are going to-day?" said Stafford.
"Oh, yes; there will be a general exodus. A great many of the people
were only staying on until we could be sure we had pulled this railway
scheme through. Falconer and his daughter--I beg your pardon, my dear
Stafford, I mean Maude!--talk of going to-day. But I persuaded them to
stay until to-morrow. I thought you would like to go to London with
them."
He smiled as a father smiles when he is planning a pleasure for his
son.
"Yes, I should like it," said Stafford, quietly. "But could I leave you
here?"
"Oh, yes," said Sir Stephen. "They'll entertain themselves. Besides, it
was an understood thing you should be free to go and come as you
pleased. Of course, you would like to go with Maude."
"Of course," echoed Stafford, his eyes on the ground. As he was leaving
the room his father took a letter from the table, held it up and
dropped it.
"You'll be wanting to buy a little present for your lady-love,
Stafford," he said. "I am placing a thousand pounds to your credit at
your bank, I don't know whether you'll think that is enough--"
"Quite enough," said Stafford, in a low voice. "Thank you! You are very
generous--"
Sir Stephen winced and held up his hand.
"What is mine is yours from this moment, my dear Stafford," he said.
Stafford went out by the door at the other end of the hall, and made
his way to the stables. Just as he was crossing the lawn the temptation
to ride over to Heron Hall and leave the note himself assailed him
strongly. He took the letter from his pocket and looked at it
wistfully. But he knew that he dared not ran the risk of meeting Ida,
and with a sigh he went on towards the stables, carrying the note in
his hand. And as he turned away Maude Falconer let fall the curtain
which she had raised at her window so that she might watch him.