14 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 



the writer to clothe Mrs, Binkie's speech in any more elegant 

 garb — the lady's expressions were wont, on occasions, to be 

 homely.) 



" How do you know but what it mightn't be the Dook 

 himself? If so, we must get Sir Thomas Fitzsquander down 

 into the drawing-room to meet him ; let His Grace see that 

 we have some aristobratic friends." 



"Aristocratic, my love," feebly murmured Septimus, who 

 had received a sound commercial education at the Blankford 

 Charit — beg pardon, Grammar School. 



Mrs. Binkie did not deign any reply, but being a naturally 

 sharp woman, she always stored such corrections up in her 

 mind for use on future occasions. At this juncture she 

 had eyes and ears, however, for nothing but the rapidly 

 oncoming visitor. As he made the final turn round the 

 rhododendron bushes of the drive, her keen eye fell on the 

 clerical collar of the Eeverend Geoffry Yarboro, with whom 

 we have already a slight acquaintance. 



"A Parson," exclaimed the lady, in tones of disappoint- 

 ment, not to say disgust : " Only the Parson ; well, I suppose 

 that's better than nothing, anyhow," she added, brightening 

 up. " I daresay now, if we're civil to him and give him a 

 dinner now and then — when we want someone to make up, 

 you know, Sep — that he'll be the means of introducing us to 

 some of the county people." 



"I daresay, my dear, I daresay," assented Septimus, who, 

 to tell the truth, was strongly inclined to seek the drowsy god, 

 this dull, foggy day, instead of receiving callers. 



"Penelope, come into the salong with your mother. Sep, 

 you'll wait ten minutes, and then come in — not before, mind ;" 



