behind with the Lady Mary Elkinghorn, Georgina Hickle, and the Dean
of Stays. Banghurst was large and copious in speech, and such
interstices as he left were filled in by Hickle with complimentary
remarks to Filmer. And Filmer walked between them saying not a word
except by way of unavoidable reply. Behind, Mrs. Banghurst listened
to the admirably suitable and shapely conversation of the Dean
with that fluttered attention to the ampler clergy ten years
of social ascent and ascendency had not cured in her; and the Lady Mary
watched, no doubt with an entire confidence in the world's
disillusionment, the drooping shoulders of the sort of man she had
never met before.

There was some cheering as the central party came into view of
the enclosures, but it was not very unanimous nor invigorating cheering.
They were within fifty yards of the apparatus when Filmer took
a hasty glance over his shoulder to measure the distance of the ladies
behind them, and decided to make the first remark he had initiated
since the house had been left. His voice was just a little hoarse,
and he cut in on Banghurst in mid-sentence on Progress.

"I say, Banghurst," he said, and stopped.

"Yes," said Banghurst.

"I wish--" He moistened his lips. "I'm not feeling well."

Banghurst stopped dead. "Eh?" he shouted.

"A queer feeling." Filmer made to move on, but Banghurst was immovable.
"I don't know. I may be better in a minute. If not--perhaps . . .