I'd been wanting to come East and have a look at you for some time, and I
thought I might as well come now."

"How did this--this affair start?" asked Mr. Vane.

"Blodgett was driving in some of Tyner's calves, and I caught him. I told
him what I thought of him, and he shot at me through his pocket. That was
all."

"All! You shot him, didn't you?"

"I was lucky enough to hit him first," said Austen.

Extraordinary as it may seem, the Honourable Hilary experienced a sense
of pride.

"Where did you hit him?" he asked.

It was Euphrasia who took matters in her own hands and killed the fatted
calf, and the meal to which they presently sat down was very different
from the frugal suppers Mr. Vane usually had. But he made no comment. It
is perhaps not too much to say that he would have been distinctly
disappointed had it been otherwise. There was Austen's favourite pie, and
Austen's favourite cake, all inherited from the Austens, who had thought
more of the fleshpots than people should. And the prodigal did full
justice to the occasion.