ion into the mind of Mrs. Dennistoun, when practised under
her sedate and middle-aged eyes. But Elinor, as has been said, did not
take exactly the same view.

Presently they went to luncheon, and Phil secured himself a place at
table commanding the road. "I never knew before how jolly it was," he
said, "though everything is jolly here. And that peep of the road must
give you warning when any invasion is coming."

"It is too far off for that," said Mrs. Dennistoun.

"Oh, no, not for sharp eyes. Nell there told me who several people
were--those white horses--the people at--where did you say, Nell?"

"Reddown, mamma--the Philistines, as you call them, that are always
dashing about the country--_nouveaux riches_, with the finest horses in
the county."

"I like the _nouveaux riches_ for that," said Phil (he did not go wrong
in his French, which was a great consolation to Elinor), "they like to
have the best of everything. Your poor swell has to take what he can
get, but the _parvenu's_ the man in these days; and then there was a
dog-cart, which she pronounced to be from the station, but which turned
out to be the butcher, or the baker, or the candle-stick maker----"

"It is really too far off to make sure of anything, except white
horses."

"Ah, there's no mistaking them. I see something sweeping along, but
that's a country wagon, I suppose. It gives me a great deal of diversion
to see the people on the road--which perhaps you will think a vulgar
amusement."

"Not at all," said Mrs. Dennistoun, politely, but she thought within
herself how empty the brain must be which sought diversion from the
distant carriages passing two miles off: to be sure across the combe,
as the crow flies, it was not a quarter part so far as that.

"Phil thinks some one may possibly come to him on business--to explain
things," said Elinor, anxious on her part to make it clear that it was
not out of mere vacancy that her lover had watched so closely the
carriages on the road.

"Unfortunately, there is something like a smash," he said; "they'll keep
it out of the papers if they can, but you may see it in the papers; the
manager has run away, and there's a question about some books. I don't
suppose you would understand--they may come to me here about it, or they
may wait till I go back to town."

"I thought you were going to Ireland, Phil."

"So I shall, probably, just for three days--to fill up the time. One
wants to be doing something t