The Ffolliots of Redmarley | Page 8

sorrowfully at his
boots. There had been a lot of rain that winter, and now on this, the
third Sunday in December, the pathway was covered with mud, which,
when it was not sticky, was extremely slippery.
The young man walked rather slowly, twirling a smart cane as he went,
and presently he burst into speech--more accurately--a speech.
"What, gentlemen," he demanded, loudly and rhetorically, "but no--I
will not call you gentlemen; here to-night, I note it with pride and
gladness, there are but few who can claim that courtesy title. I who
speak, and most of you who do me the honour to listen, can lay claim
to no prouder appellation than that of MEN. What then, fellow-men, I
ask you, what is the House of Lords? What purpose does it serve except
to delay all beneficent legislation, to waste the country's time and to
nullify the best efforts. . . . Confound . . ."
He slipped, he staggered, his hat went one way, his stick another, and
he sat down violently and with a splash in a particularly large puddle.
And at that instant he was suddenly beset by a dog--a curiously
long-legged fox-terrier--who came bouncing round him with short
rushes and sharp barks. He had reached a part of the woods where the
paths cross. Fir trees were very thick just there, and footsteps made
hardly any sound in the soft mud.
A tall girl came quickly round the corner, calling "Parker!" and pulled
up short as she beheld the stranger seated ingloriously in the puddle.
But it was only for a moment; she hastened towards him, rebuking the
dog as she came: "Be quiet, Parker, how rude of you, come off now,
come to heel"--then, as he of the puddle, apparently paralysed by his
undignified position, made no effort to arise, on reaching him she held
out her hands, saying; "I wouldn't sit there if I were you, it's so awfully
wet. Shall I pull you up? Dig your heels in, that's it. I say, you are in a

mess!"
He was.
The leggy fox-terrier ceased to bark. Instead, he thrust an inquisitive
nose into the stranger's bowler hat and sniffed dubiously.
The girl was strong and had pulled with a will.
"I am much obliged to you," the young man remarked stiffly, at the
same time regarding his rescuer with a suspicious and inimical eye, to
see if she were laughing at him.
She did nothing of the kind. Her candid gaze merely expressed dismay,
subtly mingled with commiseration. "I don't see how we're to clean
you," she said; "only scraping would do it--a trowel's best, but, then, I
don't suppose you've got one about you."
The young man tried to look down his back, always a difficult feat.
"You're simply covered with mud from head to foot," she continued.
"The only thing I can think of for you to do is to come to the stables,
and I'll get Heaven to clean you . . . unless, perhaps," she added,
doubtfully, "you were coming to the house."
"If you will kindly direct me to the village," he said, "I have to pay a
call there, and no doubt my friends will assist me to remove some of
this mud."
"But you can't go calling like that," she expostulated; "you'd far better
come to the stables first. Heaven's so used to us, he'd clean you up in no
time; besides, by far the quickest way to the village is down our drive.
There's no right-of-way through these woods; didn't you see the
boards?"
"Whenever," he spoke with deliberate emphasis, "I see a board to the
effect that trespassers will be prosecuted, I make a point of walking
over that land as a protest."

"Dear me," she said. "It must take you sadly out of your way
sometimes. Where have you come from to-day?"
"From Marlehouse."
"Then you'd have saved yourself at least a mile and a half, and your
trousers all that mud, if you'd stuck to the road; it's ever such a long
way round to come by the woods."
"I prefer the woods."
There was such superior finality in his tone, that the girl was apparently
crushed. She started to walk, he followed; she waited for him, and they
tramped along side by side in silence; he, covertly taking stock of his
companion; she, gazing straight ahead as though for the moment she
had forgotten his existence.
A tall girl, evidently between sixteen and seventeen, for her hair was
not "done up," but tied together at the back with a large bow, whence it
streamed long and thick and wavy to her waist: abundant light brown
hair, with just enough red in it to give it life and warmth.
His appraising eye took in