The Squire shot worse and worse as the morning went on, and through over-anxiety and confused instructions the birds were not driven properly out of High Beech Wood, which ought to have afforded the best drive of the day. They streamed away to the right of where the Squire was standing, where there was neither a gun nor a stop, or went back over the heads of the keepers. Humphrey had suggested placing a gun where those that were got out of the wood eventually came over, and because he had pooh-poohed the suggestion the Squire was furious with him. Dick would have put a gun there without asking him. But Humphrey now could do nothing right. After this fiasco he suggested sending to the keeper's cottage, where luncheon was to be served, to tell them to set the tables outside. There was a warm grove of beeches at the back of it, where they sometimes did lunch earlier in the season, and to-day it was fine and sunny enough to have made it more pleasant to sit in the open than in a crowded room in a cottage. But the Squire said, "For God's sake, don't be altering arrangements now, and throwing everything out," so Humphrey had retired and told Bobby Trench that his governor was like a bear with a sore head.
"I thought he seemed rather passionate," said Bobby Trench pleasantly. "Not pulling 'em down, I suppose. It does put you out, you know."
"He'd better manage for himself," said Humphrey sulkily. "If he likes to make a mess of it, let him."
Joan, who was with them, grew red at this discussion. "Father has had a lot of worries," she said. "I think you ought to help him all you can, Humphrey."
Humphrey stared at her, and Bobby Trench said, "Bravo, Miss Joan, you stick up for your own."
"I'm going to," said Joan, and turned back to join Beatrice Senhouse, who was just behind them. At the next stand, the last of the morning, she went up to her father and said, "I'm going to count your birds, daddy, and I'll give you a kiss for every one you let off."
The Squire's worried face brightened. "I thought you'd forsaken your poor old father," he said. "Well, I'm letting plenty of them off, but we'll see what we can do this time."
Whether encouraged or not by his prospective reward, he acquitted himself well during the ensuing drive, in the course of which he got two high birds with a right and left, and another one going away with a quick change of guns; and when the drive was over he handed his gun to his loader, and put his hand on Joan's shoulder to walk towards the cottage, with a face all smiles.
Mrs. Clinton, with Lady Aldeburgh and her daughter, met them at the garden gate. "I have told them to put the table outside," she said, as they came up, and the Squire said, "Capital idea, Nina, capital idea!" and turning to Lady Aldeburgh twitted her on her late appearance. "You've missed some good sport," he said. "But we'll see what we can show you this afternoon."
Lady Aldeburgh, in a costume of Lincoln green with a short skirt bound in brown leather, looked younger than her own daughter, and felt no older than a child. "Oh, do let me stand by you, Mr. Clinton, and see you shoot," she said, clasping her hands appealingly. "I'll promise not to chatter."