He and Barbara walked slowly back to the house, neither saying much, seeming to avoid the subject of their former conversation.

When they reached a certain point, Richard drew back while Barbara went on. He saw her try the study window and fail. She then went and rang the bell. After some time the door opened, and she disappeared.

He turned away into the park, and thinking about many things, walked about until by slow gradations the sky’s gray idea unfolded into the morning. He took care to let the house not only come awake but to its senses before he sought admission. When it seemed well astir, he rang the bell. The door was opened after some delay. He went straight to the library and was fairly at work by five o’clock.

17. Barbara and Lady Ann

— Seventeen —

Barbara and Lady Ann

Richard saw nothing of Barbara all day, or indeed any of the family except Vixen. At eight o’clock he had his breakfast, and at nine he was again in the library, so that by lunchtime he had been seven of his eight hours at work, and by half past two found himself free to go to his grandfather’s.

On his way to the road through the park he met Arthur Lestrange. Richard touched his hat and would have passed, but Arthur stopped him, his face holding no friendly expression.

“Where are you going, Tuke?”

“To my grandfather’s, sir,” Richard answered.

“Excuse me, but your day’s work is not over for some hours yet.”

“If you remember, sir,” he said, “our agreement mentioned no hour for beginning or ending work.”

“That is true, but you undertook to give me eight hours of your day.”

“Yes, sir. I was at work by five o’clock this morning and have given you more than eight hours.”

“Hmm,” said Arthur.

“I am quite as anxious,” pursued Richard, “to fulfil my engagement as you are to have it fulfilled.”

Arthur said nothing.

“Ask Thomas, who let me in this morning,” resumed Richard, “whether or not I was at work in the library by five o’clock.”

“Let you in!” exclaimed Arthur. “Let you in before five o’clock in the morning? Then you were out all night?”

“I was.”

“That cannot be permitted.”

“I am surely right in believing that when my work is over, I am my own master. I had something that had to be done. My grandfather knows all about it.”

“Oh yes, I remember! Old Simon Armour, the blacksmith!” returned Arthur. “But,” he went on, softening a little, “you ought not to work for him while you are in my employment.”

“I know that, sir. Even if I wanted to, my grandfather would not let me. While my work is yours, it is all yours.”