wards the
heath-keeper were either vindictive or remorseful,--vindictive for the
aggravation or remorseful for his own injudicious display of ill
temper. As a matter of fact, they were nothing of the sort. A sudden,
a wonderful gratitude, possessed him. The Glory of the Holidays had
resumed its sway with a sudden accession of splendour. At the crest of
the hill he put his feet upon the footrests, and now riding moderately
straight, went, with a palpitating brake, down that excellent descent.
A new delight was in his eyes, quite over and above the pleasure of
rushing through the keen, sweet, morning air. He reached out his thumb
and twanged his bell out of sheer happiness.

"'He's a bloomin' Dook--he is!'" said Mr. Hoopdriver to himself, in a
soft undertone, as he went soaring down the hill, and again, "'He's a
bloomin' Dook!"' He opened his mouth in a silent laugh. It was having a
decent cut did it. His social superiority had been so evident that even
a man like that noticed it. No more Manchester Department for ten days!
Out of Manchester, a Man. The draper Hoopdriver, the Hand, had vanished
from existence. Instead was a gentleman, a man of pleasure, with a
five-pound note, two sovereigns, and some silver at various convenient
points of his person. At any rate as good as a Dook, if not precisely
in the peerage. Involuntarily at the thought of his funds Hoopdriver's
right hand left the handle and sought his breast pocket, to be
immediately recalled by a violent swoop of the machine towards the
cemetery. Whirroo! Just missed that half-brick! Mischievous brutes there
were in the world to put such a thing in the road. Some blooming 'Arry
or other! Ought to prosecute a few of these roughs, and the rest would
know better. That must be the buckle of the wallet was rattling on the
mud-guard. How cheerfully the wheels buzzed!

The cemetery was very silent and peaceful, but the Vale was waking, and
windows rattled and squeaked up, and a white dog came out of one of the
houses and yelped at him. He got off, rather breathless, at the foot of
Kingston Hill, and pushed up. Halfway up, an early milk chariot rattled
by him; two dirty men with bundles came hurrying down. Hoopdriver felt
sure they were burglars, carrying home the swag.

It was up Kingston Hill that he first noticed a peculiar feeling, a
slight tightness at his knees; but he noticed, too, at the top that
he rode straighter than he did before. The pleasure of riding str