lodge on the Hamworth and Alston road, and
then to drive through the town of Hamworth, and so back to the farm.
But in walking one would take the path along the river for nearly a
mile, thence rise up the hill to the top of Crutchley Wood, descend
through the wood to Crutchley Bottom, and, passing along the valley,
come out at the foot of Cleeve Hill, just opposite to Orley Farm
Gate. The distance for a horseman was somewhat greater, seeing that
there was not as yet any bridle-way through Crutchley Wood. Under
these circumstances the journey between the two houses was very
frequently made on foot; and for those walking from The Cleeve House
to Hamworth the nearest way was by Lady Mason's gate.

Lady Mason's drawing-room was very pretty, though it was by no means
fashionably furnished. Indeed, she eschewed fashion in all things,
and made no pretence of coming out before the world as a great lady.
She had never kept any kind of carriage, though her means, combined
with her son's income, would certainly have justified her in a
pony-chaise. Since Lucius had become master of the house he had
presented her with such a vehicle, and also with the pony and harness
complete; but as yet she had never used it, being afraid, as she said
to him with a smile, of appearing ambitious before the stern citizens
of Hamworth. "Nonsense, mother," he had replied, with a considerable
amount of young dignity in his face. "We are all entitled to those
comforts for which we can afford to pay without injury to any one. I
shall take it ill of you if I do not see you using it."

"Oh, Sir Peregrine, this is so kind of you," said Lady Mason, coming
forward to meet her friend. She was plainly dressed, without any full
exuberance of costume, and yet everything about her was neat and
pretty, and everything had been the object of feminine care. A very
plain dress may occasion as much study as the most elaborate,--and
may be quite as worthy of the study it has caused. Lady Mason, I am
inclined to think, was by no means indifferent to the subject, but
then to her belonged the great art of hiding her artifice.

"Not at all; not at all," said Sir Peregrine, taking her hand and
pressing it, as he always did. "What is the use of neighbours if they
are not neighbourly?" This was all very well from Sir Peregrine in
the existing case; but he was not a man who by any means recognised
the necessity of being civil to all who lived near him. To the great
and to th