"Melbury Park!" laughed the Squire. "Ha! ha!"
"That's town," said Dick. "Four to six. We yokels are getting worsted."
"I'll come to your rescue," said Humphrey. "I don't want to be cut off with a shilling. Give me a big country house and a season ticket, and I'm with you."
"Five to six then. Now, Siskin, make it all square."
"No," said Cicely. "I hate the country."
"What!" exclaimed the Squire.
"It's so dreadfully dull," said Cicely. "There's nothing in the world to do."
"But this is a revolt!" said Dick.
"Nothing to do!" echoed the Squire, in a voice of impatient censure. "There's everything to do. Don't talk nonsense, Cicely. You have got to live in the country whether you like it or not, so you had better make the best of it."
"Very sound advice," said Mr. Birket. "I follow it myself. It may surprise the company, but I'm for the country. Cows enrapture me, and as for the buttercups, there's no flower like 'em."