"That's right, Benny; though I don't think from your own experience that you have any occasion to call the ladies lions," and Mrs. Fisher bent on him a knowing look.

"Right you are, mammy; I believe they are mostly angels after all, and perhaps those at Brooklands will be no exception to the rule."

"I'm sure they will be kind to you, Benny; so you had better be off and get ready."

Half an hour later he came into the sitting-room to Mrs. Fisher, dressed for his visit.

"Now, mammy," he said, "am I presentable?"

"Go away with you," she said, laughing, though casting at the same time an admiring look at the manly young fellow that stood before her, "you'll be as proud as a peacock soon."

"Right you are again. I feel the pride creeping up already. But now for a sight of the angels, so good-bye."

And off he started to pay a visit that was to be fraught with vastly more important issues than he had any conception of.

Chapter XXII - Recognition

*

"That strain again; it had a dying fall:
Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour."—Tempest.

When our hero reached the bridge that spanned the narrow dell, he paused for a moment and looked over the low parapet at the deep gully that had been worn away by the action of the water, and shuddered as he thought of what would have happened had he failed to grasp the bridle-rein. "I expect this breakneck place will be remedied now," he said, "that a couple of lives have come near being lost over it. If the horse had not been stopped there could not have been the least possible chance of their escape. Well, well, I'm thankful the affair ended in nothing worse than a broken arm."

Passing through the lodge gates, he wended his way slowly along the carriage drive towards the house. High above his head the leafy canopy swayed gently in the summer breeze, making pleasant music, and here and there an industrious bee droned dreamily on leaf and flower. From distant fields the sheep-bells jingled gently, and mingled with the whistling of a plough-boy riding home his tired team, while from a neighbouring farmyard the patient cows lowed lazily while waiting to be milked.

When Benny reached the door of the Munroe mansion, he felt strongly tempted to turn and go back again; but concluding that such an action would be exceedingly foolish, he seized the bell-handle, gave it a vigorous pull, and waited.

"Is Mr. Munroe at home?" he inquired of the servant who opened the door.

"Yes; but he's engaged at present. Will you give me your name?"

"Bates. But never mind, you need not disturb him; another time will do as well."

"I think the master has been expecting you to call," with a glance at Benny's arm.