"Hallo!" he exclaimed. "Why, where on earth have you been?"
Drake explained as he got off the horse.
"I breakfasted at the Grange. I don't think I mentioned it last night, did I? Then I rode into Shallop with Sir William, and he had a fit of some sort—apoplexy, I fancy—and I had to come back and fetch Lady Maltby. Then the poor old chap came to, and—well, he felt like wanting company, and I couldn't leave him until he fell asleep."
"Poor old chap! I haven't heard a word of it," said Dick. "I say, come in! Mamma will be delighted to hear news of that kind—no, no; I don't mean—you know what I mean. Something exciting like that is like a bottle of champagne to her."
"I'll take the horse in; he's had rather a hard day of it," said Drake. "I've bucketed him up hill and down dale; obliged to, you know."
As he spoke, he looked beyond Dick and toward the open door of The Cottage wistfully. Why didn't Nell come out? As a rule, it was she who first heard the sound of his footsteps or his horse's.
"I'll take it. Oh, I say, Drake, how awfully kind of you to—to——Bardsley & Bardsley, you know! Upon my word, I don't know how to thank you! I don't, indeed!"
"That's all right," said Drake. "Hope it's what you want, Dick. If it isn't, we must find something else. Anyway, you can try it."
"What I want! Rather! I should think so! As I told Nell——"
"Where is Nell, by the way?" cut in Drake, with all a lover's impatience.