At length I ventured upon a question.

‘You never see any of the Mortimer Street men?’

‘No,’ he answered carelessly, ’I haven’t come in their way lately, somehow.’

That evening our ramble led us into an enclosure where game was preserved.  We had lost our way, and Ireton, scornful of objections, struck across country, making for a small plantation which he thought he remembered.  Here, among the trees, we were suddenly face to face with an old gentleman of distinguished bearing, who regarded us sternly.

‘Is it necessary,’ he said, ‘to tell you that you are trespassing?’

The tone was severe, but not offensive.  I saw my companion draw himself to his full height.

‘Not at all necessary,’ he answered, in a voice that surprised me, it was so nearly insolent.  ’We are making our way to the road as quickly as possible.’

’Then be so good as to take the turning to the right when you reach the field,’ said our admonisher coldly.  And he turned his back upon us.

I looked at Ireton.  To my astonishment he was pallid, the lines of his countenance indicating fiercest wrath.  He marched on in silence till we had reached the field.

‘The fellow took us for cheap-trippers, I suppose,’ then burst from his lips.

‘Not very likely.’

‘Then why the devil did he speak like that?’

The grave reproof had exasperated him; he was flushed and his hands trembled.  I observed him with the utmost interest, and it became clear from the angry words he poured forth that he could not endure to be supposed anything but a gentleman at large.  Here was the old characteristic; it had merely been dormant.  I tried to laugh him out of his irritation, but soon saw that the attempt was dangerous.  On the way home he talked very little; the encounter in the wood had thoroughly upset him.

Next morning he came into my room with a laugh that I did not like; he seated himself stiffly, looked at me from beneath his knitted brows, and said in an aggressive tone: 

‘I have got to know all about that impudent old fellow.’

‘Indeed?  Who is he?’

’A poverty-stricken squire, with an old house and a few acres—­the remnants of a large estate gambled away by his father.  I know him by name, and I’m quite sure that he knows me.  If I had offered him my card, as I thought of doing, I dare say his tone would have changed.’

This pettishness amused me so much that I pretended to be a little sore myself.

‘His poverty, I suppose, has spoilt his temper.’

‘No doubt,—­I can understand that,’ he added, with a smile.  ’But I don’t allow people to treat me like a tramp.  I shall go up and see him this afternoon.’

‘And insist on an apology?’

’Oh, there’ll be no need of insisting.  The fellow has several unmarried daughters.’

It seemed to me that my companion was bent on showing his worst side.  I returned to my old thoughts of him; he was snobbish, insolent, generally detestable; but a man to be studied, and I let him talk as he would.