CHAPTER V.
Towards four o’clock on the following afternoon Mr Beveridge and Moggridge were walking leisurely down the long drive leading from the mansion of Clankwood to the gate that opened on the humdrum outer world. Finding that an inelastic matter of yards was all the tether he could hope for, Mr Beveridge thought it best to take the bull by the horns, and make a companion of this necessity. So he kept his attendant by his side, and regaled him for some time with a series of improbable reminiscences and tolerable cigars, till at last, round a bend of the avenue, a lady on horseback came into view. As she drew a little nearer he stopped with an air of great surprise and pleasure.
“I believe, Moggridge, that must be Lady Alicia à Fyre!” he exclaimed.
“It looks huncommon like her, sir,” replied Moggridge.
“I must really speak to her. She was”—and Mr Beveridge assumed his inimitable air of manly sentiment—“she was one of my poor mother’s dearest friends. Do you mind, Moggridge, falling behind a little? In fact, if you could step behind a tree and wait here for me, it would be pleasanter for us both. We used to meet under happier circumstances, and, don’t you know, it might distress her to be reminded of my misfortunes.”
Such a reasonable request, beseechingly put by so fine a gentleman, could scarcely be refused. Moggridge retired [pg 40] behind the trees that lined the avenue, and Mr Beveridge advanced alone to meet the Lady Alicia. She blushed very becomingly as he raised his hat.
“I hardly expected to see you to-day, Mr Beveridge,” she began.
“I, on the other hand, have been thinking of nothing else,” he replied.
She blushed still deeper, but responded a little reprovingly, “It’s very polite of you to say so, but——”