"Well, good-bye, Mat, good-bye. Tell the old mother I was asking for her. How are you, Mrs. Kelly? What's the last news from Nora? The best, that's a good hearing. Come along, Sir Anthony. Don't drop any of the gentleman's things on your way, Pat." Mr. Graydon bustled his new pupil out of the little station, and into the very disreputable pony car, with a blissful oblivion of its shortcomings. "You won't mind coming to the village with me till I deliver my message? I was very near forgetting it. Then I'll have you home in less than no time. You'll be glad of a wash-up and a cup of tea." Sir Anthony assented, but he was preoccupied, tucking his long legs away under the seat of the little car. When he had time to look at his host, he found him gravely regarding him. "You are like your father, just such another as he was at your age." "I am glad you think so, sir. I am proud to be like him." "Ah, he was a fine fellow, my lad." "He never forgot you, sir, and your old friendship, though, as he said, you had chosen to bury yourself far away from your friends. He used to say that no man had more friends, or deserved them better." "Did he say that?" and for a second Mr. Graydon's eyes were misty. "Ah, well! he showed he remembered me when he wished his boy to be in my hands." "You are good to have me, sir." "Not at all, my lad. I shall be very glad of your companionship, and shall feel sometimes as if it were Gerald Trevithick beside me as of old instead of his boy. And your mother? I hope you left Lady Jane well." "Quite well, thank you, sir." "And what did she think of her only son burying himself in the wilds of Ireland?" "She respected my father's wishes," said the young fellow, and Mr. Graydon detected a note of coldness in the voice which had been so tender when he spoke of his dead father. "Ah, here we are," said Mr. Graydon, as they turned into a tiny street of mud cabins and drew up in front of a general shop. "Just take the reins for a minute while I give Mrs. Lennan my daughter's orders. Oh, is it yourself, Mrs. Lennan? You shouldn't have troubled to come out. You're looking bonny in spite of the hot weather." "The same to you, Mr. Graydon," said the little rosy-cheeked woman, curtseying. "What can I do for your honour to-day?" "I've a list here as long as a woman's tongue, Mrs. Lennan, though the tongue isn't yours or we'd wish it to be always wagging. Let me see--here it is: soap, candles, matches--there, you'd better take it inside and get Mike to read it for you. He's a fine scholar, I hear." "Indeed, then, he is, sir, though his mother oughtn't to be talkin' about it. Thank you, sir. I'll put the things together in less time than you'd say them over." While they waited in the village street, Mr. Graydon beguiled the time by genial gossip with every man, woman, and child who came the way. "How well you get on with the people, sir," Sir Anthony could not help saying.