"Do I? I love Devonshire. Love its granite tors, its glorious hills and valleys. No wonder it is called 'Glorious Devon.'"
By the time they reached the cottage Sir George Weston and Hugh Stanmore had returned, and tea was on the table. Sir George seemed somewhat excited, while old Hugh Stanmore was anything but talkative. It might seem as though, during the afternoon, the two had talked on matters of greater interest than the tombs of Egyptian kings.
When the time came for Dick to depart, Hugh Stanmore said he would walk a little way with him. For a happy, and singularly contented man, he appeared much disturbed.
"I am so glad you came, Mr. Faversham," said Beatrice as she bade him good-bye. "We had a lovely walk, hadn't we?"
"Wonderful," replied Dick. "I shall never forget it."
"And you'll not forget your promise, will you?"
"You will let us know, won't you, when you are going to speak in the House of Commons? I shall insist on Granddad taking me to hear you."
Sir George Weston looked from one to the other suspiciously. He could not understand her interest in him.
"What do you think of Weston?" asked Hugh Stanmore, when they had walked some distance together.