“Let us have a quiet dinner there; six-thirty can drive us back.”

Glazzard rejoined his relatives.  Denzil, turning came face to face with Mr. Samuel Quarrier.

“So you took the trouble to come and hear me?”

“To be sure,” replied the old man, in a gruff but good-natured voice.  “Is it true what they are saying?  Is it to be you instead of Toby?”

“I believe so.”

“I shall do my best to get you a licking.  All in good part, you know.”

“Perfectly natural, But I shall win!”

CHAPTER VIII

“Do you know of any good house to let in or near the town?” inquired Denzil of his sister the next morning, as they chatted after Toby’s departure to business.

“A house!  What do you want with one?”

“Oh, I must have a local habitation—­the more solid the better.”

Mrs. Liversedge examined him.

“What is going on, Denzil?”

“My candidature—­that’s all.  Any houses advertised in this rag?” He took up yesterday’s Examiner, and began to search the pages.

“You can live very well with us.”

Denzil did not reply, and his sister, summoned by a servant, left him.  There was indeed an advertisement such as he sought.  An old and pleasant family residence, situated on the outskirts of Polterham (he remembered it very well), would be vacant at Christmas.  Application could be made on the premises.  Still in a state of very high pressure, unable to keep still or engage in any quiet pursuit, he set off the instant to view this house.  It stood in a high-walled garden, which was entered through heavy iron-barred gates, one of them now open.  The place had rather a forlorn look, due in part to the decay of the foliage which in summer shaded the lawn; blinds were drawn on all the front windows; the porch needed repair.  He rang at the door, and was quickly answered by a dame of the housekeeper species.  On learning his business, she began to conduct him through the rooms, which were in habitable state, though with furniture muffled.

“The next room, sir, is the library.  A lady is there at present.  Perhaps you know her?—­Mrs. Wade.”

“Mrs. Wade!  Yes, I know her slightly.”

The coincidence amused him.

“She comes here to study, sir—­being a friend of the family.  Will you go in?”

Foreseeing a lively dialogue, he released his attendant till she should hear his voice again, and, with preface of a discreet knock, entered the room.  An agreeable warmth met him, and the aspect of the interior contrasted cheerfully with that of the chambers into which he had looked.  There was no great collection of books, but some fine engravings filled the vacancies around.  At the smaller of two writing-tables sat the person he was prepared to discover; she had several volumes open before her, and appeared to be making notes.  At his entrance she turned and gazed at him fixedly.