I can't remember that I ever wished myself back in my
father's book-shop."

Plowden's fine eyes sparkled his appreciation of the
other's mood. He was silent for a moment, then lifted
his head as if something had occurred to him.
"You were speaking of the plan that you should succeed
to your father's business--and your son after you--you're
not married, are you?"

Thorpe slowly shook his head.

"Our station is the next," said the younger man.
"It's a drive of something under two miles. You'd better
light another cigar." He added, as if upon a casual
afterthought: "We can both of us think of marrying now."



CHAPTER V


FOR the next two hours, Thorpe's thoughts were almost
wholly occupied with various phases of the large subject of
domestic service. He seemed suddenly to have been transported
to some region populated exclusively by clean-shaven men
in brown livery. One of these was holding a spirited
horse outside the station, and when Lord Plowden had taken
the reins, and Thorpe had gathered the rugs about his
knees and feet, this menial silently associated himself