"I shall write an article on this," said Dr. Larcher, delicately balancing the sword in his hand. "Such a discovery will be a distinct gain to our knowledge of the aborigines of that dead and buried time of so long ago--Eheu fugaces Postume labuntur anni."
"It breathes the very spirit of the age," cried Ferdinand with an inspired air:
The age of Bronze, the age of Bronze
Where Boadicea----
"Loved and sung," finished Dick. "I say old chap, you're cribbing from the Isles of Greece."
Whereupon Ferdinand entered into a lively discussion with Dick to prove that he had not plagiarised from Byron while Dick in reply mercilessly chaffed the unhappy poet with such success that he fled from the room, pursued by his laughing antagonist.
"What is the matter, Reggy?" asked Pumpkin, seeing how quiet Blake had remained, "anything wrong?"
"Oh no," he replied hastily, "but I was wondering how the Squire is this morning."
"You'd better go over and see, Blake," said the vicar, looking up. "I hope that strange doctor did him some good. By the way who is this doctor?"
"I don't know, sir," answered Blake, turning towards Dr. Larcher, "he said he was on a walking tour, and I fancy is a friend of Beaumont's."
The vicar frowned.