He found Mr Gates sitting smoking very comfortably in the society of two of his bosom friends, with whom he had that day enjoyed some very good shooting.
'Can I see Mr Richard Ferrier?' he cried, when a servant took him the name. 'I should think I could. Come in, Dick, my boy; you're just in time to help finish the bottle. Stevens is full already—he's missed every bird he's aimed at to-day—and Clark is too sleepy to appreciate good stuff.'
The other men laughed, and all shook hands with Dick, and made room for him in the little circle which they formed round a splendid fire.
'I suppose the Aspinshaw people will soon be down now,' Gates went on; 'in fact, I heard so from Stanley.'
'I came down on business,' said Dick, as the three other men burst out laughing.
'Of course,' said Gates; 'you went to town on business just when they went.'
The duet of less than half-sober laughter with which Mr Gates's guests received this suggestion brought the colour to Richard's cheeks.
'I want to speak to you in private,' he said, 'if your friends will excuse us.'
'Oh, they won't mind,' said Mr Gates, his cheerfulness unabated by the sharp tone in which Richard spoke. 'Come along; let's get the beastly business over.'