"I am not very sorry to get away from Bolton Row, and the fine ladies who come to see you--and who always look at me as much as to say, 'Who is she?--what is she?--how did she come here?'--and who are obviously surprised if I say anything intelligent--first, at my audacity in speaking before company, and next that such a thing as I should have any brains." "Nonsense, Jessie, how thin-skinned you are; everybody praises you," said Mrs. Tregonell, while they all waited on the threshold for Christabel to fasten her eight-button gloves--a delicate operation, in which she was assisted by Mr. Hamleigh. "How clever you are at buttoning gloves," exclaimed Christabel; "one would think you had served an apprenticeship." "That's not the first pair he has buttoned, I'll wager," cried the Major, in his loud, hearty voice; and then, seeing Angus redden ever so slightly, and remembering certain rumours which he had heard at his club, the kindly bachelor regretted his speech. Happily, Christabel was engaged at this moment in kissing her aunt, and did not observe Mr. Hamleigh's heightened colour. Ten minutes later they were all seated outside the coach, bowling down Piccadilly Hill on their way westward. "In the good old days this is how you would have started for Cornwall," said Angus. "I wish we were going to Cornwall now." "So do I, if your aunt would let us be married at that dear little church in the glen. Christabel, when I die, if you have the ordering of my funeral, be sure that I am buried in Minster Churchyard." "Angus, don't," murmured Christabel, piteously. "Dearest, 'we must all die--'tis an inevitable chance--the first Statute in Magna Charta--it is an everlasting Act of Parliament'--that's what he says of death, dear, who jested at all things, and laid his cap and bells down one day in a lodging in Bond Street--the end of which we passed just now--sad and lonely, and perhaps longing for the kindred whom he had forsaken." "You mean Sterne," said Christabel. "Jessie and I hunted for that house, yesterday. I think we all feel sorrier for him than for many a better man." In the early afternoon they had reached their destination--a lovely creek shaded by chestnut and alder--a spot known to few, and rarely visited. Here, under green leaves, they moored their boat, and lunched on the contents of a basket which had been got ready for them at Skindle's--dawdling over the meal--taking their ease--full of talk and laughter. Never had Angus looked better, or talked more gaily. Jessie, too, was at her brightest, and had a great deal to say. "It is wonderful how well you two get on," said Christabel, smiling at her friend's prompt capping of some bitter little speech from Angus. "You always seem to understand each other so quickly--indeed, Jessie seems to know what Angus is going to say before the words are spoken. I can see it in her face." "Perhaps, that is because we are both cynics," said Mr. Hamleigh.