They were to drive to a little wood the beauty of which was celebrated in the neighbourhood, although neither the captain nor his companions had ever penetrated so far. It was some fifteen miles distant, near a little old-world village, and they leaned back contentedly in their seats with the prospect of a long and pleasant drive before them. Suddenly, from the side of the road, they heard a hail, and the horses were drawn up sharply. Comethup turned about, and saw a figure hurrying toward them--the figure of a man, with long coat-tails flapping in the wind and a hand waving to them. The captain frowned a little, and muttered something under his breath. The figure came rapidly nearer, and disclosed itself as that of Mr. Robert Carlaw, heated and flushed; a little more full of habit, Comethup thought, than in former days, and a little more red in the face, but the same smiling, swaggering Robert Carlaw as of old. He stopped at the carriage door, and pulled off his hat with a flourish to 'Linda; saw Comethup, and fell back a step, in delighted amazement. "What!" he cried, "is it possible that I look again upon the little nephew of whom I have thought so often? And yet, little no longer. Alas! time works changes upon us all. My boy"--he spoke with some emotion--"give me your hand. Little Comethup! And so you've come back to your old haunts, you lucky man of fortune, to turn the heads of all the pretty girls, eh?" He glanced at 'Linda, and smiled and shook his head. "Gad! you make me wish my youth could come back to me, although I never had _your_ chances. With good looks, and fortune, and youth--well, the ball's at your feet now; you're a lucky rascal. And so we drive our carriage, do we?" Comethup had shaken hands with him somewhat diffidently. "I am very glad to see you, uncle," he said, as soon as Mr. Carlaw had finished speaking. "We're just off for a picnic; I'm staying with the captain for a week, before I go on to London. I've just left school, you know." "A picnic! Oh, for the days of picnics, and pretty faces, and murmuring brooks, and the deuce knows what else! Gone, alas! forever. But what do I see? A vacant seat. Youth and beauty on one side, and crabbed age on the other. Gad! I'll balance you; youth and beauty run in couples, captain--crabbed age shall pair as well. I'll join you." He had the carriage door open and a foot on the step before any one could speak. But the captain put out a hand. "My dear sir," he said, "I can assure you that we did not contemplate an addition----" But Mr. Robert Carlaw cut him short. "Not a word, not a word," he exclaimed. "Picnics are like all other joyous things in the world--the more the merrier. And I'm not a great eater, by any means." He was into the carriage by this time, and had dropped with a sigh of contentment beside the captain, thrusting that little gentleman ruthlessly out of the way. He closed the door, and the carriage moved on again.