But poor Harry little knew the difficulty of reticency when the heart is full.

He had intended to be very reticent when he came up to London, and had, in fact, done nothing but talk about the missing man, as to whom he had declared that he would altogether hold his tongue.
The reader must here be pleased to remember that Augustus Scarborough was perfectly well aware of what had befallen his brother, and must, therefore, have known among other things of the quarrel which had taken place in the streets.

He knew, therefore, that Harry was concealing his knowledge, and could make a fair guess at the state of the poor fellow's mind.
"He will guess," he had said to himself, "that he did not leave him for dead on the ground, or the body would be there to tell the tale.

But he must be ashamed of the part which he took in the street-fight, and be anxious to conceal it.

No doubt Mountjoy was the first offender, but something had occurred which Annesley is unwilling should make its way either to his uncle's ears, or to his father's, or to mine, or to the squire's,--or to those of Florence." It was thus that Augustus Scarborough reasoned with himself when he asked Harry Annesley to dine with him.
It was not supposed by any of his friends that Augustus Scarborough would continue to live in the moderate chambers which he now occupied in the Temple; but he had as yet made no sign of a desire to leave them.
They were up two pair of stairs, and were not great in size; but they were comfortable enough, and even luxurious, as a bachelor's abode.
"I've asked you to come alone," said Augustus, "because there is such a crowd of things to be talked of about poor Mountjoy which are not exactly fitted for the common ear." "Yes, indeed," said Harry, who did not, however, quite understand why it would be necessary that the heir should discuss with him the affairs of his unfortunate brother.