For the last month or two he had been back at the nearest approach to a home that he possessed, at his old nurse's cottage at Packworth, with her and his sister.

And now, leaving them, and coming back once more to work in London, a home-sickness had seized him, and an irresistible craving for sympathy had prompted him to tell me his secret.
"And it shall be safe with me," I said to myself.
We did not refer to the subject again that day, or for several days.
Indeed, I almost suspected he repented already of what he had done, for his manner was more reserved and shy than I had ever known it.

He seemed to be in a constant fright lest I should return to the subject, while his almost deferential manner to me was quite distressing.
However, we had our work to occupy our minds during most of the day.
"Slap bang, here we are again!" cried Doubleday, as we entered the office together that morning.

"What cheer, Bulls'-eye?
Awfully sorry we haven't got the decorations up, but we're out of flags at present.
We're going to illuminate this evening, though, in your honour--when we light the gas." "Awfully glad you're back," said Crow.

"The governors have been in an awful way without you to advise them.