"Now, if you gentlemen are doing nothing to-day, we shall be very glad of your company on our drive," said Hil.
"We shall be delighted," said both together.
"Then that's settled. Now let us go to lunch. Quite impromptu, you know, billy and pannikins," she added, with a light laugh, as she led the way.
And a happy quartette they made, these four young people, sensible to the full of the enjoyments of life. Joke and anecdote were interchanged with good-humoured camaraderie and, if Mrs. Grundy was not present, she ought to have been, only in the capacity of spectator, that she might but learn how possible it is for youth of both sexes to meet together in wholesome social enjoyment without the watchful eye of a chaperon. After luncheon, the boys were invited to light their cigars, the girls apologising for not joining in, because they had given up male vices with male habiliments.
"You must come and see Wyck," said Hilda, taking them to the stables. "And here is old Tom. I don't know if you remember him at Dalby. I brought him to look after Wyck, because they seem to understand each other so well."
"How's Wyck getting on, Tom?" she asked, as the old fellow came forward and saluted.
"Oh, he's doing well, miss. I've had him entered for the Sydney Cup, and I doubt there won't be many to beat him," said Tom, proudly, as he led the way to a loose box in which his favourite was kept.
"Well, Wyck, old boy," said Hil, and the horse, hearing her voice, turned round and put his head over the rail, and sniffed at her as if in search of something.
"Here you are," she said, giving him a piece of sugar, and rubbing his nose.
"We heard about your doings at Dalby; how you took the auctioneer and the farmer down," said Reg, "but we little guessed who the new chums were."