Carrie Denham laughed. "I thought that type was distinctly out of date now. It probably has its disadvantages."
"Still," said Mrs. Annersly with an air of reflection, "he would scarcely jar as much on one's self-respect as the people one would meet as the wife of the other sort of man."
CHAPTER III
PRESSURE OF CIRCUMSTANCES
The early breakfast over, Leland was walking up and down beneath the red beeches that grew close up to the old arched gateway of Barrock-holme, one of his fellow guests beside him, and a gun under his arm. Looking in through the quadrangle, they saw a young groom holding with some difficulty a restive, champing horse that pawed the gravel and shook his head impatiently.
"He doesn't like waiting either," said Leland's companion to the groom. "How long have you been holding him here?"
"About half an hour, Mr. Terry," said the groom.
Terry glanced at Leland with a little uplifting of his brows, and again addressed the groom.
"You can't pack all of us into that dog-cart, and it's four miles, anyway, to the edge of Garberry moor," he said. "Do you know how we are expected to get there?"
"Mr. Parsons of the Dell farm keeps a smart cart, and he promised to lend it Mr. James when he heard we had the tire loose on our other one. It should have been here."