“I’ll wager you are just as much looked up to by your neighbours as you and yours have been,” he said; “there may not be so many ways of showing it, but I’m sure the feeling is there all the same, and it’s feeling that counts, you know. Then you’ve got your young people growing up to take their place in the world; they are going to keep up the family reputation. The good old times will never come back for anyone, but one mustn’t turn one’s back on the good time coming.”

With the flow of cheering counsel on his lips Duncombe prepared to take his departure; he would ride on to the market town a few miles away, leave his horse stabled for the night at some hostelry, and get home by train in time for dinner. He would not dream of offending his hosts by offering anything in way of payment for their hospitality, but a graceful act of recognition suggested and commended itself to him.