"Be hopeful, sir, pray," said Clayton, as he gazed in the worn and haggard countenance of the stately old gentleman. "I will, Clayton--I will, as long as I can; but this is hard work; and if he is dead, it will break my heart. You ought never to have left him," he added, reproachfully. "I would not have done so," said Clayton, "had I possessed the slightest influence; but during the latter part of my stay I found that he would not submit to the slightest restraint." "Yes, yes!" said Sir Richard; "I know how obstinate the poor boy was," said the old man, in tremulous tones. "_Is_, sir--_is_" exclaimed Clayton, laying his hand upon Sir Richard's arm. "Yes, _is_--we will not yet despair," said Sir Richard; "but you had influence--the influence of your quiet, firm example. But did I tell you that I have had reward-bills _posted_ about the streets?" he added hastily, upon seeing Harry's pained and troubled aspect. "You did not, sir; but it was wisely done. And now it seems to me necessary that one of us should be always here in case of information of any kind arriving." "I will stay," said Sir Richard; "it is my duty, though the inaction is extremely hard to bear; but I am weak and troubled, and unable to get about." "You may be the first to get good news," said Harry, smiling. "Perhaps so--perhaps so," was the reply. "I never knew before how old I had grown. You must carry on the search; but you will come back often, Clayton?" "I will, sir," said Harry, gently, and soon after he left the house. Harry's first visit was to Great Scotland Yard, where he was passed up-stairs to a quiet ordinary-looking person, in plain clothes, who, however, only shook his head. "Nothing at present, sir," he said; "but do you know, sir, I think Sir Richard Redgrave is making a mistake, sir--`too many cooks spoil the broth!' Better have left the matter entirely to us; we're doing all we can. Private inquiries are all very well; and Mr Whittrick's a good man--was here, you know; but he's only good for a runaway-match or a slope, or anything of that kind. Sir Richard's wrong, sir, depend upon it he is." "You must excuse it all on account of the old gentleman's anxiety," said Harry, quietly, as, after being told for the twentieth time that information should be forwarded the moment it arrived, he took his leave, so as to seek the renowned Mr Whittrick, of private-inquiry fame; but here the interview was very similar to the last; and he returned to Sir Richard to find him restlessly pacing the room with a telegram in his hand. "News?" exclaimed Harry, excitedly. "For you," said the old man, kindly; "and I hope it is good." He handed the telegram, which had been sent down to Cambridge, and re-transmitted. It was short and painful. Richard Pellet was the sender, and he announced the sudden and serious illness of Mrs Richard at Norwood--Harry arriving at his mother's bedside, but just in time to receive her farewell.