‘Then,’ said he, wounded to the quick, ‘your aunt might come and fetch you herself. Of course you can command me as you please. But I think it would be better so.’ ‘Oh yes,’ she said wearily, ‘better so.’ This was the only exchange of words between them till about four o’clock; the phaeton, mounting the lane, ‘opened out’ the cottage between the leafy banks. Thin smoke went straight up from the chimney; the flowers in the garden, the hawthorn in the lane, hung down their heads in the heat; the stillness was broken only by the sound of hoofs. For right before the gate a livery servant rode slowly up and down, leading a saddle horse. And in this last Dick shuddered to identify his father’s chestnut. Alas! poor Richard, what should this portend? The servant, as in duty bound, dismounted and took the phaeton into his keeping; yet Dick thought he touched his hat to him with something of a grin. Esther, passive as ever, was helped out and crossed the garden with a slow and mechanical gait; and Dick, following close behind her, heard from within the cottage his father’s voice upraised in an anathema, and the shriller tones of the Admiral responding in the key of war. CHAPTER VIII—BATTLE ROYAL SQUIRE NASEBY, on sitting down to lunch, had inquired for Dick, whom he had not seen since the day before at dinner; and the servant answering awkwardly that Master Richard had come back but had gone out again with the pony phaeton, his suspicions became aroused, and he cross-questioned the man until the whole was out. It appeared from this report that Dick had been going about for nearly a month with a girl in the Vale—a Miss Van Tromp; that she lived near Lord Trevanion’s upper wood; that recently Miss Van Tromp’s papa had returned home from foreign parts after a prolonged absence; that this papa was an old gentleman, very chatty and free with his money in the public-house—whereupon Mr. Naseby’s face became encrimsoned; that the papa, furthermore, was said to be an admiral—whereupon Mr. Naseby spat out a whistle brief and fierce as an oath; that Master Dick seemed very friendly with the papa—‘God help him!’ said Mr. Naseby; that last night Master Dick had not come in, and to-day he had driven away in the phaeton with the young lady— ‘Young woman,’ corrected Mr. Naseby. ‘Yes, sir,’ said the man, who had been unwilling enough to gossip from the first, and was now cowed by the effect of his communications on the master. ‘Young woman, sir!’ ‘Had they luggage?’ demanded the Squire. ‘Yes, sir.’ Mr. Naseby was silent for a moment, struggling to keep down his emotion, and he mastered it so far as to mount into the sarcastic vein, when he was in the nearest danger of melting into the sorrowful. ‘And was this—this Van Dunk with them?’ he asked, dwelling scornfully upon the name.