But Sir Giles said never a word. He kept patting his son’s hand, saying, “Only you and me, my boy.” He took no notice of the intruder into the carriage, and who else dared to speak? As for Patty’s sentiments, they were altogether indescribable. They were complicated by personal sensations which were not agreeable. The carriage went slowly, the windows were closed on account of Sir Giles, though the day was warm. And she was placed on the front seat, beside Dunning, which was a position which gave her nausea, and made her head swim, as well as being highly inappropriate to her dignified position. But anything was to be borne in the circumstances, for the glory of being seen to drive “home” in the carriage with Sir Giles, and the chance of thus getting a surreptitious but undeniable entrance into the house. She said nothing, partly from policy, partly from discomfort, during that prolonged and tedious drive. And Gervase behaved himself with incredible discretion. Gervase, too, was glad to be going “home.” He was pleased after all that had passed to be sitting by his father again. And he did Sir Giles good even by his foolishness, the poor Softy. After keeping quite quiet for half of the way, suffering his father to pat his hand, and repeat that little formula of words, saying “Don’t cry, father, don’t cry,” softly, from time to time, he suddenly burst forth: “I say! look at those fellows riding over the copses. You don’t let them ride over our copses, do you, father?” “Never mind, never mind, my boy,” said Sir Giles. But he was roused to look up, and his sobbing ceased. “I wish you’d stop the carriage and let me get at them. They shouldn’t ride that way again, I promise you,” Gervase cried. “You can’t interfere to-day, Mr. Gervase,” Dunning presumed to say. “Not the day of my lady’s funeral, Sir Giles. You can’t have the carriage stopped to-day.” “Mind your own business, Dunning,” said Sir Giles, sharply. “No, my boy, never mind, never mind. We must just put up with it for a day. It don’t matter, it don’t matter, Gervase, what happens now----” “But that isn’t my opinion at all,” said Gervase; “it matters a deal, and they shall see it does. Job Woodley, isn’t it, and young George? They think it won’t be noticed, but I’ll notice it. I’ll take care they sha’n’t put upon you, father, now that you have nobody but me.” “God bless you, Gervase, you only want to be roused; that’s what your poor dear mother used always to say.” “And now you’ll find him thoroughly roused, Sir Giles, and you can depend upon him that he will always look after your interests,” Patty said.