"It's early yet." "I am going," replied the ward quietly.
"By the way," said Mr Halgrove, as he reached the door, "by the way, John--" Jeffreys stopped with his hand on the latch.
"I was going to say," said the guardian, rising and looking for his cigar-case, "that the little sum of money which was left by your father, and invested for your benefit, has very unfortunately taken to itself wings, owing to the failure of the undertaking in which it happened to be invested.

I have the papers here, and should like to show them to you, if you can spare me five minutes." Jeffreys knew nothing about money.

Hitherto his school fees had been paid, and a small regular allowance for pocket-money had been sent him quarterly by his guardian.

Now his guardian's announcement conveyed little meaning to him beyond the fact that he had no money to count upon.

He never expected he would have; so he was not disappointed.
"I don't care to see the papers," he said.
"You are a philosopher, my friend," said his guardian.