“There, Preen,” said he, returning it, “I won’t repudiate that. Couldn’t if I would.”
Mr. Preen put the note into his pocket-book, and rose to leave. We strolled with him across the front garden to the gate, where his gig was waiting.
“I have to go as far as Norton; and possibly after that on to Stoulton,” he remarked, as he took the reins in his hand and got in.
“You will have a hot drive of it,” said the Squire.
“Yes; but if one undertakes business it must be attended to,” said Preen, as he drove off.