t augmented his discomfort. Her silence, too, distressed him.
It did not occur to him that his silence was distressing her. He put
down his pen.

"I can't write with you standing there, Margery!"

Mrs. Pendyce moved out of the sunlight.

"George says he is taking steps. What does that mean, Horace?"

This question, focusing his doubts, broke down the Squire's dumbness.

"I won't be treated like this!" he said. "I'll go up and see him
myself!"

He went by the 10.20, saying that he would be down again by the 5.55

Soon after seven the same evening a dogcart driven by a young groom and
drawn by a raking chestnut mare with a blaze face, swung into the
railway-station at Worsted Skeynes, and drew up before the
booking-office. Mr. Pendyce's brougham, behind a brown horse, coming a
little later, was obliged to range itself behind. A minute before the
train's arrival a wagonette and a pair of bays, belonging to Lord
Quarryman, wheeled in, and, filing past the other two, took up its place
in front. Outside this little row of vehicles the station fly and two
farmers' gigs presented their backs to the station buildings. And in this
arrangement there was something harmonious and fitting, as though
Providence itself had guided them all and assigned to each its place.
And Providence had only made one error--that of placing Captain Bellew's
dogcart precisely opposite the booking-office, instead of Lord
Quarryman's wagonette, with Mr. Pendyce's brougham next.

Mr. Pendyce came out first; he stared angrily at the dogcart, and moved
to his own carriage. Lord Quarryman came out second. His massive
sun-burned head--the back of which, sparsely adorned by hairs, ran
perfectly straight into his neck--was crowned by a grey top-hat. The
skirts of his grey coat were square-shaped, and so were the toes of his
boots.

"Hallo, Pendyce!" he called out heartily; "didn't see you on the
platform. How's your wife?"

Mr. Pendyce, turning to answer, met the little burning eyes of Captain
Bellew, who came out third. They failed to salute each other, and
Bellow, springing into his cart, wrenched his mare round, circled the
farmers' gigs, and, sitting forward, drove off at a furious pace. His
groom, running at full speed, clung to the cart and leaped on to the step
behind. Lord Quarryman's wagonette backed itself into the place left
vacant. And the mistake of Providence was rectified.

"Cracked chap, that fellow Bellew. D'you s