"Stupid little Pollypod! Why, you are so sleepy and tired now that you can't keep your eyes open."
"That would make it nice. I should like to sleep and wake up, and keep on riding and riding!"
Felix smiled; he, like the child, regretted that they had come to the end of their journey. The rattle of the smart waggonette brought all the neighbours to the doors and windows again, and Felix was scrutinised and discussed in a manner that ought to have made his ears tingle, if he had any respect for old-fashioned proverbs.
"I can but repeat my thanks," said the old man to Felix, as they stood by the street door. "You have laid us under a deep obligation."
"I hope not," replied Felix; "indeed I believe not. I have a theory of my own that every human act is dictated by a feeling of selfishness. What I have done, I have done to please myself."
The old man shook his head.
"You believe better of human nature than your theory would lead one to suppose. Of that I am certain.--Will you step upstairs?"
"No, I thank you," said Felix, after a moment's hesitation, during which he decided that the presence of a stranger was not desirable after the day's fatigue; "but if you will allow me, I will call in a day or two to pay my respects."
The old man expressed acquiescence, and looked round for Alfred; but the young man was gone. He had slipped away to obtain an evening paper, in which he would learn whether Christopher Sly had won or lost the Northumberland Plate. Instead of Alfred, the old man saw Mr. David Sheldrake, who, happening to pass through the street, paused when he saw the group at Mr. Gribble's door. Mr. Sheldrake raised his hat.
"I heard of your loss," he said to Lily, in a tone of confidential respect, "and I beg you to accept my sincere sympathy. The White Rose is quite disconsolate at your absence. I hope it will not be long before we hear your charming voice again. This is your grandfather. Allow me to present myself: Mr. David Sheldrake. I know your grandson, sir, Master Alfred; a fine young fellow, sir. We all grieve, for your granddaughter's sake, at the loss you have sustained."