"No need to make anxious inquiries regarding your health, young sir. What have you been doing with yourself, eh? You look as fit as a fiddle and as fresh as paint."
"If I look as I feel I must look ravenously hungry," Richard answered, flushing up a little. "I've been out since six."
"Had some breakfast?"
"Oh dear, yes! Enough to teach one to know what a jolly thing a good meal is, and make one wish for another."
"Hum!" Dr. Knott said. "That's a healthy state of affairs, anyhow. Young horses going well?"
"Famously."
"Bless me, everything's beer and skittles with you just at present then!"
Richard looked away down the smooth yellow road whereon the dappled shadows kissed and mingled, mingled and kissed, and his heart cried "Helen, Helen," once again.
"Oh! I don't know about that," he said. "I get my share as well as the rest I suppose—at least—anyway the horses are doing capitally this season."
"I should like to have a look at them."