’I do not know.  I had been thinking of trying whether I can get as far as Marksedge.’

Marksedge would be fatal to the ankle, solitude to the spirits, thought the Earl; and he at once declared his intention of walking with his son as far as he should let him go.

Louis was half vexed, half flattered, and they proceeded in silence, till conscious of being ruffled, and afraid of being ungracious, he made a remark on the farm that they were approaching, and learnt in return that the lease was nearly out, the tenant did not want a renewal, and that Richardson intended to advertise.

He breathed a wish that it were in their own hands, and this led to a statement of the condition of affairs, the same to which a year before he had been wilfully deaf, and to which he now attended chiefly for the sake of gratifying his father, though he better understood what depended on it.  At least, it was making the Earl insensible to the space they were traversing, and the black outlines of Marksedge were rising on him before he was aware.  Then he would have turned, but Louis pleaded that having come so far, he should be glad to speak to Madison’s grandfather, and one or two other old people, and he prevailed.

Lord Ormersfield was not prepared for the real aspect of the hamlet.

‘Richardson always declared that the cottages were kept in repair,’ he said.

‘Richardson never sees them.  He trusts to Reeves.’

‘The people might do something themselves to keep the place decent.’

’They might; but they lose heart out of sight of respectability.  I will just knock at this door—­I will not detain you a moment.’

The dark smoky room, damp, ill-paved floor, and cracked walls produced their effect; and the name and voice of the inmate did more.  Lord Ormersfield recognised a man who had once worked in the garden, and came forward and spoke, astonished and shocked to find him prematurely old.  The story was soon told; there had been a seasoning fever as a welcome to the half-reclaimed moorland; ague and typhus were frequent visitors, and disabling rheumatism a more permanent companion to labourers exhausted by long wet walks in addition to the daily toil.  At an age less than that of the Earl himself, he beheld a bowed and broken cripple.

Fitzjocelyn perceived his victory, and forebore to press it too hastily, lest he should hurt his father’s feelings; and walked on silently, thinking how glad Mary would be to hear of this expedition, and what a pity it was that the unlucky passage of last August should have interfered with their comfortable friendship.  At last the Earl broke silence by saying, ‘It is very unfortunate;’ and Louis echoed, ‘Very.’

’My poor Uncle Dynevor!  He was, without exception, the most wrong-headed person I ever came in contact with, yet so excessively plausible and eager that he carried my poor father entirely along with him.  Louis! nothing is so ruinous as to surrender the judgment.’