No, he declared, nothing would induce him to be seen in them; he was always a quiet dresser. He could wear a muffler, hold his tongue, or even drop his h’s if necessary; but he barred making an object of himself, and suggested that she should offer the discarded ties as a birthday present to Payne. “He’d give notice. Payne, in his unprofessional kit, looks like a chief justice. Well, I won’t insist on the ties, but you must promise to be _very_ countrified and dense. You know you can take off any one’s way of talking in the most remarkable way, and do Uncle Richard to the life!” “One of my rare accomplishments; and as to being dense, why, it’s my normal condition.” “Oh yes, you may joke! But I do hope you won’t let the cat out of the bag, Owen, or allow any one to suspect that ‘things are not what they seem!’ I wonder how you will manage in the kitchen and stables, and if you will be unmasked?” “Well, I promise to do my best to pick up the local manners and patois, and, my dear Leila, you appear to forget that for the last year I’ve lived among a very mixed lot, and got on all right.” “Got on all right!” she cried. “How _can_ you say so? when you told me yourself that you had half killed a man! However, as you and I are confederates in this most risky enterprise, I feel sure you will do your utmost for my sake. Think of the uproar and scandal if Miss Parrett were to discover that you were _my_ brother--late of Eton College and the Red Hussars. Explanation would be impossible; I should be compelled to flee the country!” CHAPTER VI FIRST IMPRESSIONS The train which bore Wynyard to his situation was slow, and lingered affectionately at every station; nevertheless he enjoyed the leisurely journey. He was glad to be in England once more! His eyes feasted greedily on the long stretches of quiet, secluded country, nice hunting fences, venerable villages crowding round a church steeple, and stately old halls buried in hollows, encompassed by their woods. The afternoon was well advanced when he saw “Catsfield” on a large board staring him in the face, and, realising that he had reached his destination, seized his bag, sprang out, and went in search of his luggage--a corded tin box of a remarkably vivid yellow. His sister had insisted upon this, instead of his old battered portmanteau, as a part of his disguise. A portmanteau, she declared, would give him away at once! For, no matter how dilapidated and travel-stained, a portmanteau conferred a certain position upon its owner! There were but two people on the platform of the forlorn little station, which seemed to have no business and no belongings, but had, as it were, sat down helplessly to rest in the middle of a sweeping plain of pasture. Outside the entrance no cabs or vehicles were to be seen, merely an unpainted spring-cart drawn by a hairy bay mare. In reply to the traveller’s inquiries, the porter said--