"Oh, he didn't touch the bread," said Miss Peasey. "Trust him for that. I never knew a large dog so dainty before." Guy decided to postpone the subject of the bed and try Miss Peasey more personally. "Could you spare your chest of drawers?" he asked, at top voice. Miss Peasey, however, did not answer, and from her complete indifference to his question Guy knew that she did not like the idea of such a loan. It looked as if he would be compelled to borrow the furniture from the Rectory; and then he thought how, after all, it would be a doubly good plan to do so, inasmuch as it would partially involve his father in the obligations of a guest. Moreover, it could scarcely fail to be a slight reproach to him that his son should have to borrow bedroom furniture from the family of his betrothed. Pauline was, of course, delighted at the idea of lending the furniture, and she and Guy had the greatest fun together in amassing enough to equip what would really be a very charming spare room. Deaf-and-dumb Graves was called in; and Birdwood helped also, under protest at the hindrance to his work, but at the same time reveling, if Birdwood could be said to revel, in the diversion. Mrs. Grey presided over the arrangement and fell so much in love with the new bedroom that she pillaged the Rectory much more ruthlessly than Pauline, and in the end they all decided that Guy's father would have the most attractive bedroom in Wychford. Guy, with so much preparation on hand, had no time to worry about the conduct of his father's visit, and after lunch on Thursday he got into the trap beside Godbold and drove off equably enough to meet the train at Shipcot. Mr. Hazlewood was in appearance a dried-up likeness of his son, and Guy often wondered if he would ever present to the world this desiccated exterior. Yet, after all, it was not so much his father's features as his cold eyes that gave this effect of a chilly force; he himself had his mother's eyes, and, thinking of hers burning darkly from the glooms of her sick-bed, Guy fancied that he would never wither to quite the inanimate and discouraging personality on the platform in front of him. "The train's quite punctual," said Mr. Hazlewood in rather an aggrieved tone of voice, such as he might have adopted if he had been shown a correct Latin exercise by a boy whom he was anxious to reprove. "Yes, this train is usually pretty punctual," Guy answered, and for a minute or two after a self-conscious hand-shake they talked about trains, each, as it seemed, trying to throw upon the other the responsibility of any conversation that might have promoted their ease. Guy introduced his father to Godbold, who greeted him with a kind of congratulatory respect and assumed towards Guy a manner that gave the impression of sharing with Mr. Hazlewood in his paternity. "Hope you're going to pay us a good long visit," said Godbold, hospitably, flicking the pony.