Priscilla Lintern and Mrs. Hacker kept their places and drove slowly up the hill side by side; but not before Nat had chaffed Susan and applauded her holiday bonnet. Heathman and his sister walked on together; the brothers remained behind.
The younger was in uproarious mood. He laughed and jested and congratulated Humphrey on his courage in thus coming among the people.
None would have recognised in this jovial spirit that man who walked not long before with a woman in North Wood, and moved heavily under the burdens of sickness and of care. But to Nathan belonged the art of dropping life's load occasionally and proceeding awhile in freedom. He felt physically a little better, and intended to enjoy himself to-day to the best of his power. Resolutely he banished the dark clouds from his horizon and let laughter and pleasure possess him.
"How's your throat?" asked Humphrey. "You don't look amiss, but they tell me you're not well."
"I hope it may mend. 'Tis up and down with me. I can't talk so loud as once I could, and I can't eat easy; but what's the odds as long as I can drink? I'm all right, and shall be perfectly well again soon, no doubt. And you—what in the name of wonder brings you to a revel?"
"My ponies. There's twenty and all extra good. Chapman goes and falls ill after the ponies was brought up here. The fool would bring 'em though there's no need. Buyers are very well content to come to my paddocks. But custom is a tyrant to the old, and if I didn't send to the sales, Chapman would think something had gone wrong with the world."
"I'm right glad you're here, and I hope 'tis the beginning of more gadding about for you. 'Tis men like you and me that lend weight to these meetings. We ought to go. 'Tis our duty."
"You're better pleased with yourself than I am, as usual."
"We ought to be pleased," answered the other complacently. "We are the salt of the earth—the rock that society is built on."
"Glad you're so well satisfied."