He had started several times to explain
but the constant interruption of members anxious to shake Peter's
hand, had always prevented.
"I haven't apologized for being late, sir," Jack had said at last.
"It was long after ten, I am afraid, but I could not help it."
"No; what was the matter?"
"I didn't get the letter until half an hour before I reached
here."
"Why, I sent it to your uncle's house, and mailed it myself, just
after you had gone out with Miss MacFarlane."
"Yes, sir; but I am not at my uncle's house any more. I am staying
with Garry Minott in his rooms; I have the sofa."
Peter gave a low whistle.
"And you have given up your desk at the office as well?"
"Yes, sir."
"Bless my soul, my boy! And what are you going to do now?"
"I don't know; but I will not go on as I have been doing. I can't,
Mr. Grayson, and you must not ask it. I would rather sweep the
streets. I have just seen poor Charley Gilbert and Mrs. Gilbert.
He has not a dollar in the world, and is going West, he tells me.
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