Richard instantly fell to whistling Yankee Doodle, and walked on several paces without saying a word. He then made a slight apology for his impertinence--hoped no offense--and, with his usual bold but astute style of talk, contrived to bring out something of his companion's mind. He was evidently struck with the clearness and propriety with which Leonard expressed himself, raised his eyebrows in surprise more than once, and looked him full in the face with an attentive and pleased survey. Leonard had put on the new clothes with which Riccabocca and wife had provided him. They were those appropriate to a young country tradesman in good circumstances; but as he did not think about the clothes, so he had unconsciously something of the ease of the gentleman. They now came into the fields. Leonard paused before a slip of ground sown with rye. "I should have thought grass land would have answered better, so near a town," said he. "No doubt it would," answered Richard; "but they are sadly behind-hand in these parts. You see that great park yonder, on the other side of the road? That would answer better for rye than grass; but then, what would become of my Lord's deer? The aristocracy eat us up, young man." "But the aristocracy did not sow this piece with rye, I suppose?" said Leonard, smiling. "And what do you conclude from that?" "Let every man look to his own ground," said Leonard, with a cleverness of repartee caught from Doctor Riccabocca. "'Cute lad you are," said Richard; "and we'll talk more of these matters another time." They now came within sight of Mr. Avenel's house. "You can get through the gap in the hedge, by the old pollard oak," said Richard; "and come round by the front of the house. Why, you're not afraid--are you?" "I am a stranger." "Shall I introduce you? I told you that I knew the old couple." "Oh no, sir! I would rather meet them alone." "Go; and--wait a bit--harkye, young man, Mrs. Avenel is a cold mannered woman; but don't be abashed by that." Leonard thanked the good-natured stranger, crossed the field, passed the gap, and paused a moment under the stinted shade of the old hollow-hearted oak. The ravens were returning to their nests. At the sight of a human form under the tree, they wheeled round, and watched him afar. From the thick of the boughs, the young ravens sent their hoarse low cry. CHAPTER XXV. The young man entered the neat, prim, formal parlor. "You are welcome!" said Mrs. Avenel, in a firm voice. "The gentleman is heartily welcome," cried poor John. "It is your grandson, Leonard Fairfield," said Mrs. Avenel. But John who had risen with knocking knees, gazed hard at Leonard, and then fell on his breast, sobbing aloud--"Nora's eyes!--he has a blink in his eyes like Nora's." Mrs. Avenel approached with a steady step, and drew away the old man tenderly. "He is a poor creature," she whispered to Leonard--"you excite him. Come away, I will show you your room."