"At once," said Treve, readily. "There's no reason why it should not be known. I am home for good, Mr. Chattaway, and don't intend to leave it again." "And Oxford?" returned Chattaway, surprised at the news. "You had another term to keep." "Ay, but I shall not keep it. I have had enough of Oxford. One can't keep straight there, you know: there's no end of expense to be gone into; and my mother is tired of it." "Tired of the bills?" "Yes. Not but that paying them has been George's concern more than hers. No one can deny that; but George is a good fellow, and _he_ has not complained." "Are there to be two masters on Trevlyn Farm?" "No," cried Treve. "I know my place better, I hope, than to put my incompetent self above George--whatever my mother may wish. So long as George is on Trevlyn Farm, he is sole master. But he is going to leave us, he says." Mr. Chattaway turned to George, as if for confirmation. "Yes," answered George, quietly; "I shall try to take a farm on my own account. You have one soon to be vacant that I should like, Mr. Chattaway." "I have?" exclaimed Mr. Chattaway. "There's no farm of mine likely to be vacant that would suit your pocket. You _can't_ mean you are turning your ambitious eyes to the Upland?" he added, after a moment's pause. "Yes, I am," replied George. "And I must have a talk with you about it. I should like the Upland Farm." "Why, it would take----" George did not wait to hear the conclusion of the sentence. They were at that moment passing the parsonage, and Mr. Freeman, in a velvet skull-cap and slippers, was leaning over the gate. George checked his horse. "Well, did he get safe off last night?" asked Mr. Freeman. "Yes, at last. The train was forty minutes behind time." "Ah! it's a shame they don't arrange matters so as to make that ten-o'clock train more punctual. Passengers are often kept waiting half-an-hour. Did you and Rupert remain to see him off?" "Yes," replied George. "Then Rupert would be late home," observed the clergyman, turning to Chattaway, who had also reined in. "I hope you excused him, Mr. Chattaway, under the circumstances." Chattaway answered something very indistinctly, and the clergyman took it to imply that he _had_ excused Rupert. George said good morning, and turned his horse onwards; they must make good speed, unless they would be "a day too late for the fair." Not a syllable of the above conversation had Mr. Chattaway understood; it had been as Hebrew to him. He did not like Mr. Freeman's allusion to his "excusing the lateness of Rupert's return," for it proved that his harsh rule had become public property. "I did not quite take Mr. Freeman," he said, turning equably to George, and speaking in careless accents. "Were you out last night with Rupert?"