“You are, Frank, tremendously. I should hardly have known you with those big whiskers. Is that portmanteau all you have? That is right. Here, porter, just put this portmanteau in my dog-cart.”
“This Trent valley of yours, Drake, is rather alarming to a weak-minded man. All these flaming forges and kilns certainly give one the idea that the crust of the earth must be of unusual thinness hereabouts, and the hot regions unpleasantly near. I do not feel singed yet, certainly, still one can't but think that facilis descensus averni. The question is, ‘shall I hence unscathed go?’”
Teddy laughed.
“To another man I should have said that the bright eyes of the Staffordshire girls were more dangerous than their fathers' fires; but you, who have seen the beauties of Spain, Italy, and the East, are not likely to be scorched by our lesser luminaries.”
“You see more pretty faces in a week in England than in a year abroad, Teddy. How far is your place?”
“Only another hundred yards or so. There, you can see the lights among the trees. Now, we are turning in at the gate. Mind your face, Frank: some of these shrubs want cutting. Here we are.”
The front-door was opened as the dog-cart drove up, and the bright light streamed cheerfully out into the damp evening. Mr. Drake was in the hall.
“I am very glad to see you, Mr. Maynard. We have heard so much of you from Teddy that we all feel as if you were quite an old friend.”
“Come along, Frank; I will show you your room. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, so you had better go up at once, and then I can introduce you to the womankind.”