CHAPTER XLII
When Charles left Ducie Street he had caught the first train home, but had no inkling of the newest development until late at night. Then his father, who had dined alone, sent for him, and in very grave tones inquired for Margaret.
“ I don’t know where she is, pater” said Charles. “Dolly kept back dinner nearly an hour for her.”
“ Tell me when she comes in.”
Another hour passed. The servants went to bed, and Charles visited his father again, to receive further instructions. Mrs. Wilcox had still not returned.
“ I’ll sit up for her as late as you like, but she can hardly be coming. Isn’t she stopping with her sister at the hotel?”
“ Perhaps,” said Mr. Wilcox thoughtfully—“perhaps.”
“ Can I do anything for you, sir?”
“ Not to-night, my boy.”
Mr. Wilcox liked being
