‘Yes, it was me, no doubt.’

’I turned round, and then thought that it was impossible We have just been christening my child.  Will you come up to our breakfast?’

‘You remember Jack Adamson,—­eh?’

‘Of course I do,’ said Caldigate, giving his hand to the second man, who was rougher even than Crinkett.  ’I hope he will come up also.  This is my uncle, Mr. Babington; and this is my father-in-law, Mr. Bolton.’  ’These were two of my partners at Nobble,’ he said, turning to the two old gentlemen, who were looking on with astonished eyes.  ’They have come over here, I suppose, with reference to the sale I made to them lately of my interests at Polyeuka.’

‘That’s about it,’ said Adamson.

’We won’t talk business just at this moment, because we have to eat our breakfast and drink our boy’s health.  But when that is done, I’ll hear what you have to say;—­or come into Cambridge to-morrow just as you please.  You’ll walk up to the house now, and I’ll introduce you to my wife?’

‘We don’t mind if we do eat a bit,—­do we, Jack?’ said Crinkett.  Jack bobbed his head, and so they walked back to Folking, the three of them together, while the two Mr. Boltons and Uncle Babington followed behind.  The ladies and the baby had been taken in a carriage.

The distance from the church to the house at Folking was less than half a mile, but Caldigate thought that he would never reach his hall door.  How was he to talk to the men,—­with what words and after what fashion?  And what should he say about them to his wife when he reached home?  She had seen him speak to them, had known that he had been obliged to stay behind with them when it would have been so natural that he should have been at her side as she got into the carriage.  Of that he was aware, but he could not know how far their presence would have frightened her.  ‘Yes,’ he said, in answer to some question from Crinkett; ’the property round here is not exactly mine, but my father’s.’

‘They tell me as it’s yours now?’ said Crinkett.

’You haven’t to learn to-day that in regard to other people’s concerns men talk more than they know.  The land is my father’s estate, but I live here.’

‘And him?’ asked Adamson.

‘He lives in Cambridge.’

‘That’s what we mean,—­ain’t it, Crinkett?’ said Adamson.  ’You’re boss here?’

‘Yes, I’m boss.’

‘And a deuced good time you seem to have of it,’ said Crinkett.

‘I’ve nothing to complain of,’ replied Caldigate, feeling himself at the moment to be the most miserable creature in existence.