But he dismissed the notion with a shudder.
His steps turned, half mechanically, half by chance, towards his guardian's house.

He had never been in that quarter of York since the night of his expulsion, and he did not know why of all places he should just now turn thither.

His guardian, as he well knew, was even more pitiless and cynical than ever, and any hope of finding shelter or rest under his roof he knew to be absurd.

He might, however, be out; indeed, he had spoken of going to America, in which case Mrs Jessop might be there alone.
One clings to the idea of a home; and this place, such as it was, was the only place which for Jeffreys had ever had any pretensions to the blessed name.

His expectations--if he had any--vanished as he abruptly turned the corner of the street and stood in front of the house.