Dick was quick to notice the tone in which the other spoke. "You mean that he was not well received?"
"I mean that he lived his own life. Mr. Faversham was essentially a business man, and—and perhaps he could not understand the attitude of the old county families. Besides, feeling against him was rather strong when he bought Wendover Park."
"Why?"
"I daresay you'll learn all about it in time. Enough to say now that Sir Guy Wendover, the previous owner, was in money difficulties, and the feeling was that your uncle took advantage of them in order to get hold of the place. Personally I don't pay much attention to such stories; but undoubtedly they affected your uncle's position. Possibly they may affect yours—for a time." The lawyer appeared to utter the last sentence as an afterthought.
Presently the train stopped at a wayside station, where the two alighted. The sun was now high in the heavens, and the birds were singing gaily. Wooded hills sloped up from the station, while westward was a vast panorama of hill and dale.
"I don't think you could find a fairer sight in all England," remarked Mr. Bidlake. "Ah, that's right. I see a motor-car is waiting for us."
Dick felt as thought a weight rolled from his shoulders the moment he stood beneath the open sky. Yes, this was glorious! The air was laden with the perfume of bursting life. The chorus of the birds exhilarated him; the sight of the rich loamy meadows, where lambkins sported and cows fed lazily, made him feel that he was not following some chimera of the mind, but tangible realities.
A chauffeur touched his cap. "Mr. Faversham and Mr. Bidlake, sir?" he inquired.
A few minutes later the car was moving swiftly along beautiful country lanes, the like of which only a few English counties can show. Yes, Dick had to admit it. Beautiful as he thought the whole district to be when cycling through it years before, he had no idea it was like this. Every corner they turned revealed new loveliness. All nature seemed bent on giving him a great welcome to his new home.
They had covered perhaps half the journey between the station and the house when the chauffeur jammed his foot on the brake suddenly and brought the car to a standstill. In front of them stood a small two-seater, by the open bonnet of which stood a young lady with hand uplifted. Evidently something had gone wrong with her machine, and the lane at this point was not wide enough for them to pass.