“I do not wish to disobey him, but the very thoughts of the life I should have to lead, talking and debating, or worse, listening to long debates in the close atmosphere of the House of Commons, would make me miserable. So, pray, if he suggests such a thing to you, tell him you are sure that I should not like it, and beg him to let me off.”
Algernon promised to do as his brother wished.
They had taken the way to the downs to the south of Hurlston.
Harry enquired for their cousins, the Miss Pembertons. On hearing that they were still living there he proposed paying them a visit.
“To tell you the truth, I have not called since we came to Texford,” answered Algernon. “You know that they have peculiar notions. Our father, looking upon them as puritanical dissenters, has no wish to have them at the house. I have not seen the old ladies for some years. I remember that they did not make a very favourable impression on me when I met them last.”
“I suppose I may call on them,” said Harry. “They were kind to me when I was a boy, and I liked cousin Mary, as we called her.”
“Yes, there can be no objection to your going,” answered Algernon. “They will not consider it necessary to return your visit, and will look upon it as a kindness.”
The young men had been riding on further than they had intended, and being engaged in conversation while passing along lanes with high hedges on either side, they had not observed a storm gathering in the sky. Emerging from the lanes Harry invited his brother to take a gallop across the wide extended downs spread out before them, and thus they did not observe till they turned the thunder clouds sweeping up rapidly towards them.
“We shall get wet jackets, I suspect, before we reach home,” observed Harry.
“I hope not,” answered his brother, “for I have been especially charged to avoid the damp and cold, and I feel somewhat heated. I wish there was some place where we could get shelter.”