CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
"WHEN THE CAT'S AWAY--" Maxfield Manor, however cheery a place in summer-time, with its household in full swing, was decidedly desolate in dark November weather, with only a housekeeper in charge--that is to say, to any one but the two young persons on whom the honours of the house devolved, it would have appeared dull.
Mr Armstrong delayed his visit to Oxford for some days after the departure of the Captain and Roger.

There was a good deal of business to be done in connection with the estate, and as Mr Pottinger discovered, when the second trustee did take it into his head to look into things, it was no child's play.

He had an uncomfortable manner, this tutor, of demanding explanations and particulars with all the air of the proprietor himself, and was not to be put off by any dilatory tactics on the part of the official with whom the explanation lay.

As in the present case the business transacted was chiefly in connection with leases and conveyances, the unfortunate lawyer had a rough week of it, and felt at the end very much like one of his own clients after a year in Chancery.

However, the inquisitor appeared to be fairly well satisfied when all was done, so that Mr Pottinger, who all along had on his mind the uncomfortable consciousness of a few well-hidden irregularities, was doubly relieved when the tutor dropped his glass finally from his eye and observed-- "I need not trouble you further at present, sir." It was after this final interview that Mr Armstrong looked in on his friend the doctor.
"I'm off to Oxford for a day or two," said he.
"No attractions here ?" asked the doctor.
"Yes--you among others." "And who's to wash and dress the babies at Maxfield?
And who is to keep the wolf from the fold at the Vicarage?
and who is to keep an eye on the man of the law across the way ?" "The babes are well qualified to nurture one another.