"I doubt it."
"You grown lords of the creation fancy you know so much!" said Hoffland.
Mowbray caught the merry contagion, and smiling, said:
"Nevertheless, I insist upon going to see if my new brother Charles is comfortably established."
Hoffland bit his lip.
"This is the place, is it not?" asked Mowbray.
Hoffland hesitated for a moment, and then replied with an embarrassed tone:
"Yes—but—let us go on."
"No," Mowbray said, "I am very obstinate; and as Lucy will not expect me now until tea-time, I am determined to devote half an hour to spying out your land. Come, lead the way!"
Hoffland wrung his hands with a nettled look, which made him resemble a child deprived of its plaything.