In the mean time Herbert had run back to his father's room.
"Has he gone ?" murmured Sir Thomas.
"Yes, he has gone.

There; you can hear the wheels of his gig on the gravel." "Oh, my boy, my poor boy!" "What is it, father?
Why do you not tell me?
Why do you allow such men as that to come and harass you, when a word would keep them from you?
Father, good cannot come of it." "No, Herbert, no; good will not come of it.

There is no good to come at all." "Then why will you not tell us ?" "You will know it all soon enough.

But Herbert, do not say a word to your mother.

Not a word as you value my love.