He was returning to his grandfather's house because he had promised to come back and tell the old man how he had fared at the home of his betrothed.

The old man had said to him earlier in the afternoon that he would know more about women than he'd ever known before by the time his interview was over, and had drily added that the world was full to overflowing of good women who had not married the men they loved,--principally, he was just enough to explain, because the men they loved preferred to marry other women.
Braden had left him seated in the library after a stormy half-hour; and as he rushed from the room, he found Mr.Thorpe's man standing in the hall outside the door, just as he always stood, waiting for orders with the sly, patient smile on his lips.
For sixty years Templeton Thorpe had lived in the house near Washington Square, and for thirty-two of them Wade had been within sound of his voice, no matter how softly he called.

The master never rang a bell, night or day.

He did not employ Wade to answer bells.

The butler could do that, or the parlour-maid, if the former happened to be tipsier than usual.