arness and propriety with which Leonard
expressed himself, raised his eyebrows in surprise more than once, and
looked him full in the face with an attentive and pleased survey.
Leonard had put on the new clothes with which Riccabocca and wife had
provided him. They were those appropriate to a young country tradesman
in good circumstances; but as he did not think about the clothes, so he
had unconsciously something of the ease of the gentleman.

They now came into the fields. Leonard paused before a slip of ground
sown with rye.

"I should have thought grass land would have answered better, so near a
town," said he.

"No doubt it would," answered Richard; "but they are sadly behind-hand
in these parts. You see that great park yonder, on the other side of the
road? That would answer better for rye than grass; but then what would
become of my Lord's deer? The aristocracy eat us up, young man."

"But the aristocracy did not sow this piece with rye, I suppose?" said
Leonard, smiling.

"And what do you conclude from that?"

"Let every man look to his own ground," said Leonard, with a cleverness
of repartee caught from Doctor Riccabocca.

"'Cute lad you are," said Richard; "and we'll talk more of these matters
another time."

They now came within sight of Mr. Avenel's house.

"You can get through the gap in the hedge, by the old pollard oak," said
Richard; "and come round by the front of the house. Why, you're not
afraid--are you?"

"I am a stranger."

"Shall I introduce you? I told you that I knew the old couple."

"Oh no, sir! I would rather meet them alone."

"Go; and--wait a bit,--harkye, young man, Mrs. Avenel is a cold-mannered
woman; but don't be abashed by that."

Leonard thanked the good-natured stranger, crossed the field, passed the
gap, and paused a moment under the stinted shade of the old
hollow-hearted oak. The ravens were returning to their nests. At the
sight of a human form under the tree, they wheeled round, and watched
him afar. From the thick of the boughs, the young ravens sent their
hoarse low cry.

CHAPTER XXV.

The young man entered the neat, prim, formal parlor.

"You are welcome!" said Mrs. Avenel, in a firm voice.

"The gentleman is heartily welcome," cried poor John.

"It is your grandson, Leonard Fairfield," said Mrs. Avenel.

But John, who had risen with knocking knees, gazed hard at Leonard, and
then fell on his breast, sobbing aloud--"Nora's eyes!--he has a blink in