According to Bindlecombe the only possible site for the visible realization of this splendid idea--the only site which the congested condition of the center of the borough allowed, and also the only one worthy of the great Institute--was the garden and grounds of Hatcham Ford. The beautiful old house itself was to be preserved as the center of an imposing group of handsome buildings; the old gardens need not be materially spoiled--so Bindlecombe unplausibly maintained. The flavor of antiquity and aristocracy thus imparted to the Institute would, Bindlecombe declared, give it a charm and a dignity beyond those possessed by any other Institute the world over. I was there when he first made this suggestion to Jenny. She looked at him in silence, smiled, and glanced quickly at me. The look, though quick, was audacious--under the circumstances. "But what will Mr. Octon say to that?" Bindlecombe deferentially hinted that he understood that Mr. Octon's lease of Hatcham Ford expired, or could be broken, in two or three years. He understood--perhaps he was wrong--that Mr. Driver usually reserved a power to break leases at the end of seven years? Mr. Cartmell would, of course, know all about that. "Oh, if that's so," said Jenny, "of course it would be quite simple. Wouldn't it, Mr. Austin?" "As simple as drawing a badger," I replied--and Bindlecombe looked surprised to hear such a sporting simile pass my lips. It was by no means a bad one, though, and Jenny rewarded it with a merry little nod.