e is coming here. I don't mean _here_,
sir, to the Pig and Whistle, but to Woodbury Manor. Father saw it in the
newspaper, and since then he's had no rest, day or night. He's sitting out
in the garden. I don't know whether you'd like to go and speak to him,
sir?'

'I will. Yes, I certainly will. But there's something I should like to ask
you about first, Miss Fouracres. I'm thinking of staying in this part of
the country through the holidays'--long ago he had made known his
position--'and it has struck me that perhaps I could lodge here. Could you
let me have a room? Just a bedroom would be enough.'

'Why, yes, sir,' replied the landlord's daughter. 'We have two bedrooms,
you know, and I've no doubt my father would be willing to arrange with
you.'

'Ah, then I'll mention it to him. Is he in very low spirits?'

'He's unusual low to-day, sir. I shouldn't wonder if it did him good to see
you, and talk a bit.'

Having finished his ginger-beer, Mr. Ruddiman walked through the house and
passed out into the garden, where he at once became aware of Mr. Fouracres.
The landlord, a man of sixty, with grizzled hair and large, heavy
countenance, sat in a rustic chair under an apple-tree; beside him was a
little table, on which stood a bottle of whisky and a glass. Approaching,
Mr. Ruddiman saw reason to suspect that the landlord had partaken too
freely of the refreshment ready to his hand. Mr. Fouracres' person was in a
limp state; his cheeks were very highly coloured, and his head kept nodding
as he muttered to himself. At the visitor's greeting he looked up with a
sudden surprise, as though he resented an intrusion on his privacy.

'It's very hot, Mr. Fouracres,' the under-master went on to remark with
cordiality.

'Hot? I dare say it is,' replied the landlord severely. 'And what else do
you expect at this time of the year, sir?'

'Just so, Mr. Fouracres, just so!' said the other, as good-humouredly as
possible. 'You don't find it unpleasant?'

'Why should I, sir? It was a good deal hotter day than this when His Royal
Highness called upon me; a good deal hotter. The Prince didn't complain;
not he. He said to me--I'm speaking of His Royal Highness, you understand;
I hope you understand that, sir?'

'Oh, perfectly!'

'His words were--"Very seasonable weather, Mr. Fouracres." I'm not likely
to forget what he said; so it's no use you or any one else trying to make
out that he didn't say that. I tell you he _did_! "Very se