sense, Cousin Chloe! They're perfectly happy. Do leave them alone. Go
on, Blencorn!" Who, utterly unmoved, went on. But Sister Nora
said:--"No, Gwen dear, we really ought! Because I know Mr. Pellew has to
catch his train, and he'll be late. Don't go on, Blencorn!" Gwen
appearing to assent reluctantly, the arrangement stood; as did the
horses, gently conversing with each other's noses about the caprices of
the carriage.

CHAPTER XXIV

HOW IT CAME ABOUT THAT THE LADY AND GENTLEMAN COULD JUMP FARTHER
OFF. WHAT MISS DICKENSON WANTED TO SAY AND DIDN'T, AND THE REPLY
MR. PELLEW DIDN'T MAKE, IN FULL. OF A SPLIT PATHWAY, AND THE
SHREWDNESS OF RABBITS. BUT THERE WAS NO RABBIT, AND WHEN BLENCORN
STOPPED AGAIN, THEY OVERTOOK THE CARRIAGE. THEIR FAREWELL, AND HOW
MR. PELLEW RAN AGAINST THE EARL

The Hon. Percival was called away to town that evening, and was to catch
the late train at Grantley Thorpe, where it stopped by signal. There was
no need to hurry, as he belonged to the class of persons that catch
trains. This class, when it spends a holiday at a country-house, dares
to leave its packing-up, when it comes away, to its valet or lady's-maid
_pro tem._, and knows to a nicety how low it is both liberal and
righteous to assess their services.

If this gentleman had not belonged to this class, it is, of course,
possible that he would still have joined the party that had walked over,
that afternoon, to see the Roman Villa at Ticksey, the ancient
Coenobantium, in company with sundry Antiquaries who had lunched at the
Towers, and had all talked at once in the most interesting possible way
on the most interesting possible subjects. It was the presence of these
gentlemen that, by implication, supplied a reason why Gwen and Sister
Nora should prefer the others, on in front, to the less pretentious
stragglers whom they had overtaken.

Archaic Research has an interest short of the welfare of Romeo and
Juliet; or, perhaps, murders. But neither of these topics lend
themselves, at least until they too become ancient history, to
discussion by a Society, or entry on its minutes. Perhaps it was the
accidental occurrence of the former one, just as the party started to
walk back to the Towers, that had caused Mr. Percival and Aunt Constance
to lag so far behind it, and substitute their own interest in a
contemporary drama for the one they had been professing, not very
sincerely, in hypocausts and mosai