glare, when the field and the lane would have been so much more
pleasant? He felt puzzled and annoyed. How Mr St Aubyn would have
laughed at him could he but have known. This long tramp along the
disagreeable road was the only jarring incident that had befallen him
that day. Well, it would soon be over. And what a day it had been,
after all. How marvellous the pictures were, and the gardens; what an
acquisition to his life was the friendship--not only the
acquaintanceship--of St Aubyn; and then the tapestries, the great
mysterious hall, and the strange revelations that had come upon him in
the hall itself! At last his thoughts reverted, half in
self-reproach, to Aunt Charlotte. How had she fared, meanwhile? Had
she enjoyed her Cobbledicks and her MacTavishes as much as he had
enjoyed his experiences at the Court?

For all his theories about living his own life and developing his own
individuality, Austin was not a selfish boy. Egoistic he might be, but
selfish he was not. His impulses were always generous and kindly, and
he was full of thought for others. He was for ever contriving delicate
little gifts for those in want, planning pleasant little surprises for
people whom he loved. And now he hoped most ardently that dear Aunt
Charlotte had not been very dull, and for the moment felt quite kindly
towards the Cobbledicks and the MacTavishes as he reflected that, no
doubt, they had helped to make his auntie happy on that afternoon.

At last he came to the entrance of the lane through which he had
passed in the morning. At that moment a crowd of men and boys, most of
them armed with heavy sticks and all looking terribly excited, rushed
past him, and precipitated themselves into the narrow opening. He
asked one of them what was the matter, but the man took no notice and
ran panting after the others. So Austin pursued his way, and in a few