“Four, is it! Well, it was Aberystwith we went to then; and we were very comfortably lodged. It was at a Mrs. Noon’s, I remember; and——who’s coming now?”
A dash in at the gate was heard—a little startling Mr. Brandon, lest whatever it was should dash over his cob, tied to the gate-post—and then came the smooth run of light wheels on the gravel.
“Look out and see who it is, Johnny.”
Putting the leaves aside, I saw a light, elegant, open carriage, driven by a groom in livery; a gentleman seated beside him in dainty gloves.
“Why, that’s the Clement-Pells’ little carriage!” exclaimed Mrs. Todhetley, who had been looking for herself.
“And that’s Mr. Clement-Pell in it,” said I.
“Oh,” said Mr. Brandon. “I’ll go then.” But the Squire put up his arm to detain him.
Tod did the honours. Went to receive him, and brought him to us under the tree. The children stopped blowing bubbles to stare at Mr. Clement-Pell as he crossed the lawn. It struck me that just a shade of annoyance appeared in his face when he saw so many of us there. Shaking hands, he sat down by Mr. Todhetley, observing that it was some time since he had seen us. It was six weeks, or so: for we had not happened to meet him since that visit of mine and Tod’s at his house in Kensington. All the family were back again now at Parrifer Hall: and we were going to a grand entertainment there on the following day, Thursday. An open-air fête, the invitations had said.
“You have been very busy lately, Mr. Clement-Pell,” observed the Squire. “I’ve not been able to get to see you to thank you for the kindness of your folk to my boys in town. Twice I called at your chief Bank, but you were not visible.”