Somebody behind them was running down the drive and shouting 'Hoo-oo' in what Guy considered a very objectionable voice. It probably was Willsher.
"Hullo, Charlie," said Brydone.
"Hullo, Percy," said Willsher, for it was he.
"Know this gentleman? Mr. Hazlewood?"
"Only officially. Pleased to meet you," said the new-comer.
"Not at all," answered Guy. He felt furious to think that the Greys would suppose he had arranged to arrive with these two fellows.
"Done any fishing yet?" asked Brydone.
"No, not yet," said Guy.
"Well, your bit of river has been spoilt. Old Burrows let everyone go there. But when you want some good fishing, Willsher and I rent about a mile of stream farther up and we'll always be glad to give you a day. Eh, Charlie?"
Charlie replied with much cordiality that Percy had taken the very words of invitation out of his mouth; and Guy, unable any longer to be frigid, said that he had some books at which they might possibly care to come and look one afternoon. Mr. Brydone and Mr. Willsher both declared they would be delighted, and the latter added in the friendliest way that he knew an old woman in Wychford who was very anxious to sell a Milton warranted to be a hundred years old at least. Was that anything in Mr. Hazlewood's way? Guy explained that a Milton of so recent a date was not likely to be much in his way, and Mr. Brydone remarked that no doubt if it had been a Stilton, it would have been another matter. His friend laughed very heartily indeed at this joke, and in an atmosphere of almost hilarious good fellowship, that was to Guy still a little mortifying, they rang the Rectory bell.