Chapter 15 - Page 2

had laid down a hundred times; now trifling with the fragments of his meal; now pulling forth his golden toothpick, and glancing leisurely about the room, or out at window into the trim garden walks, where a few early loiterers were already pacing to and fro. Here a pair of lovers met to quarrel and make up; there a dark-eyed nursery-maid had better eyes for Templars than her charge; on this hand an ancient spinster, with her lapdog in a string, regarded both enormities with scornful sidelong looks; on that a weazen old gentleman, ogling the nursery-maid, looked with like scorn upon the spinster, and wondered she didna€™t know she was no longer young. Apart from all these, on the rivera€™s margin two or three couple of business-talkers walked slowly up and down in earnest conversation; and one young man sat thoughtfully on a bench, alone.

a€˜Ned is amazingly patient!a€™ said Mr Chester, glancing at this last- named person as he set down his teacup and plied the golden toothpick, a€˜immensely patient! He was sitting yonder when I began to dress, and has scarcely changed his posture since. A most eccentric dog!a€™

As he spoke, the figure rose, and came towards him with a rapid pace.

a€˜Really, as if he had heard me,a€™ said the father, resuming his newspaper with a yawn. a€˜Dear Ned!a€™

Presently the room-door opened, and the young man entered; to whom his father gently waved his hand, and smiled.

a€˜Are you at leisure for a little conversation, sir?a€™ said Edward.

a€˜Surely, Ned. I am always at leisure. You know my constitution.a€" Have you breakfasted?a€™

a€˜Three hours ago.a€™

a€˜What a very early dog!a€™ cried his father, contemplating him from behind the toothpick, with a languid smile.

a€˜The truth is,a€™ said Edward, bringing a chair forward, and seating himself near the table, a€˜that I slept but ill last night, and was glad to rise. The cause of my uneasiness cannot but be known to you, sir; and it is upon that I wish to speak.a€™

a€˜My dear boy,a€™ returned his father, a€˜confide in me, I beg. But you know my constitutiona€"dona€™t be prosy, Ned.a€™

a€˜I will be plain, and brief,a€™ said Edward.

a€˜Dona€™t say you will, my good fellow,a€™ returned his father, crossing his legs, a€˜or you certainly will not. You are going to tell mea€™a€"

a€˜Plainly this, then,a€™ said the son, with an air of great concern, a€˜that I know where you were last nighta€"from being on the spot,