Reaching the station, Locke proposed to Guy to walk to the school.
“It is only half a mile,” he said, “and it will be a pleasure to me to take a leisurely stroll over the road that was once so familiar to me.”
“I am quite willing,” said Guy. “It is a charming morning, and the country is beautiful.”
“More so than America?”
“I must confess,” said Guy, “that I know of no landscape in America that equals the charm of an English village.”
It was a bright, sunshiny day. The hedge-rows were a dark green. They passed a church overgrown with ivy, and the air was perfumed by sweet flowers.
“How often I have been over this road,” said August Locke.
“Did you enjoy your schooldays, Mr. Locke?”
“I should have done so if we had had a better teacher. Dr. Musgrave’s tyranny spoiled all.”
“Did he abuse you?”