The sincerity of these expressions, often repeated, put Godwin far more at his ease than the first moment’s sensation had promised.  He too began to feel a genuine pleasure in the meeting, and soon bade defiance to all misgivings.  Delicacy perhaps withheld Warricombe from further mention of Whitelaw, but on the other hand it was not impossible that he knew nothing of the circumstances which tormented Godwin’s memory.  On leaving the College perchance he had lost all connection with those common friends who might have informed him of subsequent jokes and rumours.  Unlikely, to be sure; for doubtless some of his Whitelaw contemporaries encountered him at Cambridge; and again, was it not probable that the younger Warricombe had become a Whitelaw student?  Then Professor Gale—­no matter!  The Warricombes of course knew all about Andrew Peak and his dining-rooms, but they were liberal-minded, and could forgive a boy’s weakness, as well as overlook an acquaintance’s obscure origin.  In the joy of finding himself exuberantly welcomed by a man of Buckland’s world he overcame his ignoble self-consciousness.

‘Did you know that we were in this part of the country?’ Warricombe asked, once more speeding ahead.

‘I always thought of you in connection with Kingsmill.’

’We gave up Thornhaw seven years ago.  My father was never quite comfortable out of Devonshire.  The house I am taking you to has been in our family for three generations.  I have often tried to be proud of the fact, but, as you would guess, that kind of thing doesn’t come very natural to me.’

In the effort to repudiate such sentiment, Buckland distinctly betrayed its hold upon him.  He imagined he was meeting Godwin on equal ground, but the sensibility of the proletarian could not thus be deceived.  There was a brief silence, during which each looked away from the other.

‘Still keep up your geology?’ was Warricombe’s next question.

‘I can just say that I haven’t forgotten it all.’

’I’m afraid that’s more than I can.  During my Cambridge time it caused disagreeable debates with my father.  You remember that his science is of the old school.  I wouldn’t say a word to disparage him.  I believe the extent of his knowledge is magnificent; but he can’t get rid of that old man of the sea, the Book of Genesis.  A few years ago I wasn’t too considerate in argument, and I talked as I oughtn’t to have done, called names, and so on.  The end of it was, I dropped science altogether, having got as much out of it as I needed.  The good old pater has quite forgiven my rudeness.  At present we agree to differ, and get on capitally.  I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you.  There are some visitors with us; a Miss Moorhouse and her brother.  I think you’ll like them.  Couldn’t you stay overnight?’

Godwin was unable to reply on the instant, and his companion proceeded with the same heartiness.

’Just as you like, you know.  But do stay if you can.  On Wednesday morning I must go back to town.  I act as secretary to Godolphin, the member for Slacksea.’