To May it was a great pleasure to hear him dilate in this way. Near the house they met Augustus, radiant with smiles, and perfectly loaded with the wooden bottles for the men. "I knows I'm a fool," said he; "at least I ought to, since I'm told so forty times a day. But a fool must be sometimes right. 'Pend upon it, there's nothing like ale!" At Greene Ferne, May found a letter for her which spoilt the day. It was from her grandfather, Andrew Fisher, of the Warren, written in great anger, and commanding her immediate return home, and to mind and bring that rug with her that had been at Greene Ferne ever since Christmas. The old grasping miser, in his rage, remembered such a trifle as a travelling-rug. Fisher had sent a verbal message for his granddaughter before, which she had ventured to put off; now he wrote in a furious temper, and added at the foot that if that parson ever came a-nigh the Warren again he'd have him ducked in the mill-pool. So bitter had the mere thought made him that Felix wanted his money. There was nothing for it but for May to return, and she asked for her horse to be saddled. Felix could hardly suppress his annoyance. May was much downcast, but Margaret cheered her. "I will go with you," she said. "He was always nice to me. He is a regular old flatterer,"--(she peeped in the glass)--"only think, flattering at ninety! But a man must flatter, if he's a hundred! I shall get over him! I'll ride my chestnut, and I can stay with you, dear, can't I? and come back next evening." So they left together. Geoffrey, in shaking hands with Margaret, tried to whisper, "May I come and meet you to-morrow evening?" but could not well manage it, Valentine being near. "Be sure and return by the road, dear," said Mrs Estcourt--"the Downs are very lonely if you come by yourself, and you may lose your way." "Oh, no," laughed Margaret. "I love the hills, and I know them all. I must come over the turf, mamma dear." Now, Geoffrey heard this, and mentally noted it. He had his horse at Thorpe Hall, and he determined to ride and meet Margaret on the morrow. CHAPTER FIVE. EVENING. "Aw, aim for th' Tump, measter; aim for th' Tump," said the carter, slanting his whip to indicate the direction. "When you gets thur, look'ee, go for th' Cas'l; and when you gets thur, go athwert the Vuzz toward th' Virs; and when you gets drough thaay, thur be Akkern Chace, and a lane as goes down to Warren. Tchek! Woaght!"