"You see there's my brother. He thinks a great deal of Glynne, and I never like to take any important step in life without consulting him. Do you understand?" "Well--er, not exactly." "Oh, I mean, just go back and see him, and say what you did to me just now." "What! Do you mean I must ask his consent, Sir John?" cried the young man, aghast. "No, no, no! of course not, my dear boy. Tell him I've given mine, and that it's all settled, and that you hope he approves, and--you know what to say. He'll like it. Be right, you see. Captain to senior officer, eh? There, be off, and get it over. I must go on and see the pigs." "Confound the major!" said Captain Rolph, as he stopped, looking after the brisk retreating figure of the baronet. "He'll want me to ask the housekeeper next. Hang it all! it's almost worth more than the stakes. I did think I'd got it over. The old major's as peppery as a curry. He'll want to order me under arrest if he doesn't like the engagement. Well, here goes to get it over. Let's see; just a mile to the park gates. Pity to waste it." He glanced round to see if there was anyone near, but he was quite alone on the hard, sandy, retired road; so, buttoning his well-cut morning coat tightly across his chest, he tucked up his cuffs and the bottoms of his trousers, selected two smooth pebbles about as large as kidneys from a stone heap, clasped one firmly in each hand, and then thrust one in his pocket for a moment while he referred to a stop watch, replaced it, took hold of the stone once more, and then, throwing himself into position, the gentlemanly officer seemed to subside into the low-type professional walking or running man. For a few moments he remained motionless in a statuesque attitude, his brow all in wrinkles, his teeth set, lips tight, and his chest expanded and thrown forward as if he were waiting the order to start. Then he cried, "Off!" and bounded away at a rapid rate, running hard till he reached the park gates at Brackley, where he stopped short, threw away the stones, referred to his watch, and nodded and smiled as he drew himself up--the stiff, military officer once more. "Not bad," he said, "and as fresh as a daisy. I could have done it in half a minute less. Now, I'll go and see the old man." Captain Rolph did not "see the old man" then, for when he reached the house, the old man--that is to say, Major Day, formerly of a lancer regiment that took part in several engagements in the Sikh war, but who had long since hung up his sabre in his bedroom at Brackley--was out for a morning walk, following a pursuit in which he took great delight--to wit, gathering fungi, a family of plants that he made his study, and he was coming back with a small, bright trowel in one hand, his stout stick in the other, and a large salmon creel slung from his shoulder, when he encountered his brother, the baronet, striding away to his model farm.