We started at five o'clock to walk back to Deepley Walls, the Major, and
I, and George. It was only two miles away across the fields. I was quite
proud to be seen in the company of so stately a gentleman as Major
Strickland, who was dressed this afternoon as for a visit of ceremony.
He had on a blue frock-coat, tightly buttoned, to which the builder had
imparted an intangible something that smacked undeniably of the old
soldier. He wore a hat rather wide in the brim; a high stiff checked
cravat; a white vest; and lacquered military boots, over which his
tightly-strapped trousers fell without a crease. He had white buckskin
gloves, a stout silver-headed malacca cane, and carried a choice
geranium in his button-hole.

There was not much conversation among us by the way. The Major's usual
flow of talk seemed to have deserted him this afternoon, and his mood
seemed unconsciously to influence both George and me. Lady Chillington's
threat to send me to a French school weighed down my spirits. I had
found dear friends--Sister Agnes, the kind-hearted Major, and his
nephew, only to be torn from them--to be plunged back into the cold,
cheerless monotony of school-girl life, where there would be no one to
love me, but many to find fault.

We went back by way of the plantation. George would not go any farther
than the wicket at its edge, and it was agreed that he should there
await the Major's return from the Hall. "I hope, Miss Janet, that we
shall see you at Rose Cottage again before many days are over," he said,
as he took my hand to bid me farewell. "Uncle has promised to ask her
ladyship to spare you for a few days."