‘On Monday we hope to leave the Manor.’

‘No need whatever for hurry,’ observed Mutimer, good-humouredly.  ‘Please tell Mrs. Eldon that I hope she will take her own time.’  On reflection this seemed rather an ill-chosen phrase; he bettered it.  ’I should be very sorry if she inconvenienced herself on my account.’

‘Confound the fellow’s impudence!’ was Hubert’s mental comment.  ’He plays the forbearing landlord.’

His spoken reply was:  ’It is very kind of you.  I foresee no difficulty in completing the removal on Monday.’

In view of Mutimer’s self-command, Hubert began to be aware that his own constraint might carry the air of petty resentment Fear of that drove him upon a topic he would rather have left alone.

‘You are changing the appearance of the valley,’ he said, veiling by his tone the irony which was evident in his choice of words.

Richard glanced at him, then walked to the window, with his hands in his pockets, and gave himself the pleasure of a glimpse of the furnace-chimney above the opposite houses.  He laughed.

’I hope to change it a good deal more.  In a year or two you won’t know the place.’

‘I fear not.’

Mutimer glanced again at his visitor.

‘Why do you fear?’ he asked, with less command of his voice.

’I of course understand your point of view.  Personally, I prefer nature.’

Hubert endeavoured to smile, that his personal preferences might lose something of their edge.

‘You prefer nature,’ Mutimer repeated, coming back to his chair, on the seat of which he rested a foot.  ’Well, I can’t say that I do.  The Wanley Iron Works will soon mean bread to several hundred families; how many would the grass support?’

‘To be sure,’ assented Hubert, still smiling.

‘You are aware,’ Mutimer proceeded to ask, ’that this is not a speculation for my own profit?’

’I have heard something of your scheme.  I trust it will be appreciated.’

’I dare say it will be—­by those who care anything about the welfare of the people.’

Eldon rose; he could not trust himself to continue the dialogue.  He had expected to meet a man of coarser grain; Mutimer’s intelligence made impossible the civil condescension which would have served with a boor, and Hubert found the temptation to pointed utterance all the stronger for the dangers it involved.

‘I will drop you a note,’ he said, ’to let you know as soon as the house is empty.’

‘Thank you.’

They had not shaken hands at meeting, nor did they now.  Each felt relieved when out of the other’s sight.

Hubert turned out of the street into a road which would lead him to the church, whence there was a field-path back to the Manor.  Walking with his eyes on the ground he did not perceive the tall, dark figure that approached him as he drew near to the churchyard gate.  Mr. Wyvern had been conducting a burial; he had just left the vestry and was on his way to the vicarage, which stood five minutes’ walk from the church.  Himself unperceived, he scrutinised the young man until he stood face to face with him; his deep-voiced greeting caused Hubert to look up’ with a start.