But I didn't get a chance, and came back to London by the last train,
not knowing as you was in it, till I came out of Victoria, and saw you
getting into a cab and heard you tell the cabman to drive here. And I
made up my mind to come and see you here, though I know it's a liberty
I'm taking. But I can't help it,"--and her voice suddenly grew
fierce,--"it's about the boy."
"The boy! My boy!" cried Sir Tancred.
"Yes, sir. You see I was his nurse from the first. Poor Miss
Pamela--I mean Lady Beauleigh, sir--gave him to me to take care of
before she died--leastways, she didn't give him to me, she was too
weak, poor dear; but she told me to take care of him, as I wrote to
you, sir."
"As you wrote? Yes; go on."
"And I did take care of him till Mr. Vane died. And oh, he was such a
dear baby! Then, when the young lawyer came with Mrs. Bostock and told
me as how you had arranged for her to have charge of him, and I had to
give him over to her, it nearly broke my heart. But it isn't about
myself I came to talk, but about him. I know it's troubling you,
sir--and a gentleman has his pleasures, and they take up his time.
But, after all, he's your own son, sir, and if you'd only come and see
him for yourself, you wouldn't let him be treated like he is----"
"You know where he is!" Sir Tancred almost shouted.
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