Before leaving Hallgrove, Reginald took care to make himself thoroughly
acquainted with his cousin's plans for the future. Douglas, with ten
thousand a year, was, of course, a more valuable acquaintance than he
had been as the possessor of half that income, even if there had been
no dark influence ever busy weaving its secret and fatal web.
"You will go back to your old life in London, Douglas, I suppose?"
said Sir Reginald. "There you will soonest forget the sad affliction
that has befallen you. In the hurrying whirlpool of modern life there
is no leisure for sorrow."
"Yes, I shall come to London," answered Douglas.
"And you will occupy your old quarters?"
"Decidedly."
"And we shall see as much of each other as ever--eh, Douglas?" said Sir
Reginald. "You must not let poor Lionel's fate prey upon your mind, you
know, my dear fellow; or your health, as well as your spirits, will
suffer. You must go down to Hilton House, and mix with the old set
again. That sort of thing will cheer you up a little."
"Yes," answered Douglas. "I know how far I may rely upon your
friendship, Reginald. I shall place myself quite in your hands."
"My dear fellow, you will not find me unworthy of your confidence."
"I ought not to find you so, Reginald."
Sir Reginald looked at his kinsman thoughtfully for a moment, fancying
there was some hidden meaning in Douglas Dale's words.
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