Ought he, or ought he not, to go as usual to Mr. Galloway's?
He really could not tell. If Mr. Galloway believed him guilty--and
there was little doubt of that, now--of course he could no longer be
tolerated in the office. On the other hand, to stop away voluntarily,
might look like an admission of guilt.
He determined to go, and did so. It was the early morning hour, when he
had the office to himself. He got through his work--the copying of a
somewhat elaborate will--and returned home to breakfast. He found Mr.
Channing had risen, which was not usual. Like Arthur, his night had
been an anxious one, and the bustle of the breakfast-room was more
tolerable than bed. I wonder what Hamish's had been! The meal passed in
uncomfortable silence.
A tremendous peal at the hall bell startled the house, echoing through
the Boundaries, astonishing the rooks, and sending them on the wing. On
state occasions it pleased Judith to answer the door herself; her
helpmate, over whom she held undisputed sway, ruling her with a tight
hand, dared not come forward to attempt it. The bell tinkled still, and
Judy, believing it could be no one less than the bishop come to alarm
them with a matutinal visit, hurried on a clean white apron, and
stepped across the hall.
Mr. Roland Yorke. No one more formidable. He passed Judith with an
unceremonious nod, and marched into the breakfast-room.
"Good morning all! I say, old chap, are you ready to come to the
office? It's good to see you down at this early hour, Mr.
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