The boatman, who watched his young master admiringly—­for Stafford was like a fish in the water—­informed him that the launch would be ready in a moment’s notice, or the sailing boat either, for the matter of that, if he should require them.

“I’ve another launch, a steamer, and larger than this, coming to-morrow; and Sir Stephen told me to get some Canadian canoes, in case you or any of the company that’s coming should fancy them, sir.”

As Stafford went up to the house in the exquisite “after-bath” frame of mind, he met his father.  The expression of Sir Stephen’s face, which a moment earlier, before he had turned the corner of the winding path, had been grave and keen, and somewhat hard, softened, and his eyes lit up with a smile which had no little of the boatman’s admiration in it.

“Had a swim, my boy?  Found everything right, I hope?  I was just going down to see.”

“Yes, everything,” replied Stafford.  “I can’t think how you have managed to get it done in so short a time,” he added, looking round at the well-grown shrubs, the smooth paths and the plush-like lawns, which all looked as if they had been in cultivation for years.

Sir Stephen shrugged his shoulders.

“It is all a question of money—­and the right men,” he said.  “I always work on the plan, and ask the questions:  ‘How soon, how much?’ Then I add ten per cent. to the contract price on condition that the time is kept.  I find ‘time’ penalties are no use:  it breaks the contractor’s back; but the extra ten per cent. makes them hustle, as they say on the ‘other side.’  Have you seen the stables yet?  But of course you haven’t, or I should have seen you there.  I go down there every morning; not because I understand much about horses, but because I’m fond of them.  That will be your department, my dear Stafford.”

At each turn of their way Stafford found something to admire, and his wonderment at the settled and established “Oh, I stipulated that there shouldn’t be any newness—­any ‘smell of paint,’ so to speak.  Here are the stables; I had them put as far from the house as possible, and yet get-at-able.  Most men like to stroll about them.  I hope you’ll like them.  Mr. Pawson, the trainer, designed them.”

Stafford nodded with warm approval.

“They seem perfect,” he said as, after surveying the exterior, he entered and looked down the long reach of stalls and loose boxes, many of which were occupied, as he saw at a glance, by valuable animals.  “They are a fine lot, sir,” he said, gravely, as he went down the long line.  “A remarkably fine lot!  I have never seen a better show.  This fellow—­why, isn’t he Lord Winstay’s bay, Adonis?”

“Yes,” said Sir Stephen.  “I thought you’d like him.”

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Stafford.  “You don’t mean that you have bought him for me, sir!  I know that Winstay refused eight hundred guineas for him.”

“I daresay,” replied Sir Stephen.  “Why shouldn’t I buy him for you, my boy?  There’s another one in the box next that one; a little stiffer.  I’m told he’s up to your weight and—­”