'From my mother's side, perhaps.'

'Perhaps so. Well, take care of yourself, nephy,' said the farmer,
waving his hand impressively. 'Take care! In these warlike times
your spirit may carry ye into the arms of the enemy; and you are the
last of the family. You should think of this, and not let your
bravery carry ye away.'

'Don't be disturbed, uncle; I'll control myself,' said Festus,
betrayed into self-complacency against his will. 'At least I'll do
what I can, but nature will out sometimes. Well, I'm off.' He
began humming 'Brighton Camp,' and, promising to come again soon,
retired with assurance, each yard of his retreat adding private
joyousness to his uncle's form.

When the bulky young man had disappeared through the porter's lodge,
Uncle Benjy showed preternatural activity for one in his invalid
state, jumping up quickly without his stick, at the same time
opening and shutting his mouth quite silently like a thirsty frog,
which was his way of expressing mirth. He ran upstairs as quick as
an old squirrel, and went to a dormer window which commanded a view
of the grounds beyond the gate, and the footpath that stretched
across them to the village.

'Yes, yes!' he said in a suppressed scream, dancing up and down,
'he's after her: she've hit en!' For there appeared upon the path
the figure of Anne Garland, and, hastening on at some little
distance behind her, the swaggering shape of Festus. She became
conscious of his approach, and moved more quickly. He moved more
quickly still, and overtook her. She turned as if in answer to a