pped.

"I hope Wilkinson's successor has turned out well," Guy ventured in the
hope that such a direct challenge would force a discharge of grievances.
Surprisingly, however, his father talked without covert reproaches of
the successor's virtues, of the field-club he had started, of his
popularity with the boys, and of the luck which had brought him along at
such short notice. At any rate, thought Guy, he could not be blamed for
having caused any inconvenience to the school by his refusal to take up
office at Fox Hall. The constraint of the long drive came to an end with
the first view of Plashers Mead, at which his father gazed with the sort
of mixture of resentment, interest, and alarm he might have displayed at
the approach of a novel insect.

"It looks as if it would be very damp," was his only comment.

Here Godbold, who had perhaps for some time been conscious that all was
not perfectly well between his passengers, interposed with a defense of
Plashers Mead.

"Lot of people seeing it from here think it's damp. But it isn't. In
fact, it's the driest house in Wychford. And do you know for why, sir?
Because it's so near running water. Running water keeps off the damp.
Doctor Brydone told me that. 'Running water,' he says to me, 'keeps off
the damp.' Those were his words."

Mr. Hazlewood eyed Godbold distastefully--that is, so far as without
turning his head he could eye him at all. Then the trap pulled up by the
gate of Plashers Mead, Guy took his father's bag, and they passed in
together. The noise of wheels died away, and here in the sound of the
swift Greenrush Guy felt that hostility must surely be renounced at the
balm of this September afternoon shedding serene sunlight. He began to
display his possessions with the confidence their beauty always gave
him.

"Pretty good old apple-trees, eh? Ribston pippins nearly all of them.
The blossom was rather spoiled by that wet May, but there's not such a
bad crop considering. I like this salmon-colored phlox. General
something or other beginning with an H it's called. Mr. Grey gave me a
good deal. The garden, of course, was full of vegetables when I had it
first. I must send you some clumps of this phlox to Galton. Of course, I
got rid of the vegetables."

"Yes, of course," agreed Mr. Hazlewood, dryly.

"Doesn't the house look jolly from here? It's pretty old, you know.
About 1590, I believe. It's a wonderful place, isn't it? Hullo! there's
my housekeeper. Miss