"I know they were," said Harry. "Poor old Geoff! Well, I couldn't have written that letter if I had tried till midnight."
He got up also, as the dinner gong sounded.
"That's dinner, and we are not yet dressed," he said. "But you were quite right to do it for me, Dr. Armytage," and frankness became him infinitely better than reserve. "And you might have added that I have a very good friend here, who looks after both my uncle and myself."
"I came to the conclusion that such a statement would not have increased his confidence," he said, "either in me or in your safety. There is no sense in gushing, particularly if one gushes about one's self."
That night, when the doctor made his last visit to Mr. Francis, he brought him as usual some small, affectionate message from Harry, and Mr. Francis yawned, for he was sleepy, and made no immediate reply. But in a moment or two he roused himself.
"My love, my very best love," he said, "and any convincing tenderness you please. By the way, how do you and he get on together? Is it very trying? I am afraid so. But it is of the utmost importance that you should gain Harry's confidence, that you should make him trust you."
"So you told me, and, without boasting, I think I may say that I have been fairly successful. I made a good beginning, you know, the first night I was here."
"Ah, yes, that sleeping-draught," said Mr. Francis appreciatively. "A little bromide of potassium you told me; quite simple and harmless. A charming drug, and an ingenious idea. Yes, Harry's consenting to take a sleeping-draught from your hands certainly showed that if he was disposed not to trust you, he was fighting that inclination. And you have improved your advantage, dear Godfrey?"
"Yes, we are on excellent terms. And, to tell you the truth, I do not find it trying at all. Your nephew is both amiable and intelligent."
"Poor Harry!" said Mr. Francis softly. "Yes, his very simplicity has a certain charm, has it not? It is also a very convenient quality. Well, I am to go to sleep I suppose: I sleep so well now! And you intend to take me to London at the end of the week?"
"That was the proposal," said the doctor.
"And you, being an autocrat--for, indeed, doctors are the only autocrats we have left--insist on it. I assure you it will be the best plan. That young cub who left the other day has wits of a kind; he is rather sharp. It will quiet his outrageous suspicions, I think, if I leave Vail soon. I hope Harry will not be very dull alone," he added.