“What we call the nouveau riche?” I asked.
“On the contrary, what is called a long pedigree, nowadays—two generations of squires, two of captains of industry (I think that is the proper term), and before that the imagination of the Herald's Office. There is also a pretty daughter—isn't there, Teddy?”
“Quite a nice little thing,” said Lumme, graciously.
“I thought you rather fancied her.”
“I'm off women at present,” the venerable roué declared.
Dick's grin at hearing this sentiment was more eloquent than any comment.
But now we had reached our destination. Halfred and a very stately footman, assisted by the station-master, the ticket-collector, and all the porters, transferred our luggage to a handsome private omnibus; then, Halfred having arranged that the horses should be taken to stables in the village (since my host's were full), we all bowled off between the hedge-rows.
It was a beautiful October evening, still clear overhead and red in the west; the plumage of the trees had just begun to turn a russet brown; the air was very fresh after the streets of London; our horses rattled at a most exhilarating pace.
“My faith,” I exclaimed, “this is next to heaven! I shall be buried in the country.”
“Those hunters of yours ought to manage it for you,” observed Dick.