“Thanks, your grace.”

“And now good-day,” said the visitor, offering his hand, and then abruptly leaving the room.

The youth, however, with the most deferential manner, attended him down stairs and to his carriage, and only took his leave, with a bow, when the footman closed the door.

Again as soon as his back was turned upon his father, the youth’s face changed and darkened, and—­

“I bide my time—­I bide my time,” he muttered to himself as he re-ascended the stairs.

He had not deceived his guardian, however, as to the manner in which he meant to spend his time while in London.  At this time of his unfortunate position he had not yet contracted any evil habits, and he had a genuine liking for interesting antiquities.  So, after partaking of a light luncheon, he went out, guide-book in hand and spent the whole day in studying the architectural glories and the antique monuments in Westminster Abbey.

The second day he passed among the gloomy dungeons and bloody records of the Tower of London.

On the third day he received another visit from the Duke of Hereward, who came to tell him the Reverend Mr. Simpson, the Vicar of Greencombe, had returned a favorable answer to his letter, and would be happy to receive Mr. Scott in his family.

“Now I do not wish to hurry you my dear boy; but I think the sooner you resume your long-neglected studies, the better it will be for you,” said the duke, speaking kindly, but watching cautiously, as was his constant habit when conversing with this unacknowledged son.

“I am ready to go the moment your grace commands,” answered the young man.

“I issue no commands to you, my boy.  I will give you a letter of introduction to Dr. Simpson, which you may go down and deliver at your own leisure.  If you choose to spend a week longer in London to see what is to be seen, why do so, of course.  If not, you can run down to Greencombe to-day or to-morrow.  It is about two hours’ journey by the London and South Coast Railroad from the London Bridge Station.”

“I will go down this afternoon.”

“That is prompt.  That is right.  All you do my boy, all I see of you, commends you more and more to my approval and esteem.  Go this afternoon, by all means.  I will myself meet you at the station, to see you off and leave with you my letter of introduction.  Stay; by what train shall you go?  Ah! you do not know anything about the trains.  Ring the bell.”

The youth complied.

A waiter appeared, a Bradshaw was ordered and consulted, and the five P. M. express fixed upon as the train by which the youth should leave London.

The duke then took leave of the boy, with an admonition of punctuality.

“Well,” said John Scott to himself, as soon as he was left alone, “if my father gives me nothing else, he is certainly disposed to give me my own way.  Perhaps in time he may give me all my rights.  If so, well.  If not—­I bide my time,” he repeated.