"The Master's well, sir," was the answer, "but the
Missis is very sadly." The horse knew that he was going home and
pulled hard at the reins. The weather was cold and raw -the very ideal
of a November day; in one part of the road the floods were out, and
near here they had to pass through a number of horsemen and dogs,
for the hounds had met that morning at a place near Battersby.
Ernest saw several people whom he knew, but they either, as is most
likely, did not recognise him, or did not know of his good luck.
When Battersby church tower drew near, and he saw the Rectory on the
top of the hill, its chimneys just showing above the leafless trees
with which it was surrounded, he threw himself back in the carriage
and covered his face with his hands.
It came to an end, as even the worst quarters of an hour do, and
in a few minutes more he was on the steps in front of his father's
house. His father, hearing the carriage arrive, came a little way down
the steps to meet him. Like the coachman he saw at a glance that
Ernest was appointed as though money were abundant with him, and
that he was looking robust and full of health and vigour.
This was not what he had bargained for.
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