He was in his garden with the dawn. Hard exercise is the best of opiates
for dismal reflections. The General discomposed his daughter by offering
to accompany her on her morning ride before breakfast. She considered
that it would fatigue him. 'I am not a man of eighty!' he cried. He
could have wished he had been.

He led the way to the park, where they soon had sight of young Rolles,
who checked his horse and spied them like a vedette, but, perceiving that
he had been seen, came cantering, and hailing the General with hearty
wonderment.

'And what's this the world says, General?' said he. 'But we all applaud
your taste. My aunt Angela was the handsomest woman of her time.'

The General murmured in confusion, 'Dear me!' and looked at the young
man, thinking that he could not have known the time.

'Is all arranged, my dear General?'

'Nothing is arranged, and I beg--I say I beg . . . I came out for
fresh air and pace.'..

The General rode frantically.

In spite of the fresh air, he was unable to eat at breakfast. He was
bound, of course, to present himself to Lady Camper, in common civility,
immediately after it.

And first, what were the phrases he had to avoid uttering in her
presence? He could remember only the 'gentlemanly residence.' And it