Hamish lifted Charley to him with an eager, fond movement. A weight was
taken from his mind. Although really irresponsible for the
disappearance of Charles, he had always felt that his father and mother
might inwardly attach some blame to him--might think him to have been
wanting in care. Now, all was sunshine.
Dinner over, Mr. Channing walked with Hamish to the office. They were
some time in getting there. Every other person they met, stopped Mr.
Channing to congratulate him. It seemed that the congratulations were
never to end. It was not only Mr. Channing's renewed health that people
had to speak of. Helstonleigh, from one end to the other, was ringing
with the news of Arthur's innocence; and Charley's return was getting
wind.
They reached Guild Street at last. Mr. Channing entered and shook hands
with his clerks, and then took his own place in his private room.
"Where are we to put you, now, Hamish?" he said, looking at his son
with a smile. "There's no room for you here. You will not like to take
your place with the clerks again."
"Perhaps I had better follow Roland Yorke's plan, and emigrate,"
replied Hamish, demurely.
"I wish Mr. Huntley--By the way, Hamish, it would only be a mark of
courtesy if you stepped as far as Mr. Huntley's and told him of
Charles's return," broke off Mr. Channing; the idea occurring to him
with Mr. Huntley's name. "None have shown more sympathy than he, and he
will be rejoiced to hear that the child is safe.
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