e should
regard him as a man of importance; and he felt a pleasant conviction
that the boyish philandering of years ago would stand him in good stead
now that he understood what was due to women--and to himself.

CHAPTER V

So next morning he packed his bag, drove to Euston, and by mid-day was
at Hollingford. The town, hitherto known to him only by name, had
little charm of situation or feature, but Dyce, on his way to a hotel,
looked about him with lively interest, and persuaded himself that the
main streets had a brisk progressive air; he imagined Liberalism in
many faces, and noted cheerfully the publishing office of a Liberal
newspaper. If his interview with Lady Ogram proved encouraging, he
would stay here over the next day, and give himself time to make
acquaintance with the borough.

At his hotel, he made inquiry about the way to Rivenoak, a name
respectfully received. Lady Ogram's estate was distant some two miles
and a half from the edge of the town; it lay hard by the village of
Shawe, which was on the highroad to--places wherewith Dyce had no
concern. Thus informed, he ordered his luncheon, and requested that a
fly might be ready at three o'clock to convey him to Rivenoak. When
that hour arrived, he had studied the local directory, carefully looked
over the town and county newspapers, and held a little talk with his
landlord, who happened to be a political malcontent, cautiously
critical of Mr. Robb. Dyce accepted the fact as of good augury. It was
long since he had felt so lighthearted and sanguine.

Through an unpleasant quarter, devoted to manufactures, his vehicle
bore him out of Hollingford, and then along a flat, uninteresting road,
whence at moments he had glimpses of the river Holling, as it flowed
between level fields. Presently the country became more agreeable; on
one hand it rose gently to wooded slopes, on the other opened a
prospect over a breezy common, yellow with gorse. At the village named
Shawe, the river was crossed by a fine old bridge, which harmonised
well with grey cottages and an ancient low-towered church; but the
charm of all this had been lamentably injured by the recent
construction of a large paper-mill, as ugly as mill can be, on what was
once a delightful meadow by the waterside. Dyce eyed the blot
resentfully; but he had begun to think of his attitude and language at
the meeting with Lady Ogram, and the gates of Rivenoak quickly engaged
his attention.

The drive