The next day Joe did not make his appearance, and Sir Louis with many execrations, was driven to the terrible necessity of dressing himself. Then came an unexpected difficulty: how were they to get up to the house? Walking out to dinner, though it was merely through the village and up the avenue seemed to Sir Louis to be a thing impossible. Indeed, he was not well able to walk at all, and positively declared that he should never be able to make his way over the gravel in pumps. His mother would not have thought half as much of walking from Boxall Hill to Greshamsbury and back again. At last, the one village fly was sent for, and the matter was arranged.

When they reached the house, it was easy to see that there was some unwonted bustle. In the drawing-room there was no one but Mr Mortimer Gazebee, who introduced himself to them both. Sir Louis, who knew that he was only an attorney, did not take much notice of him, but the doctor entered into conversation.

‘Have you not heard that Mr Gresham has come home?’

‘Mr Gresham! I did not know that he had been away.’

‘Mr Gresham, junior, I mean.’ No, indeed; the doctor had not heard. Frank had returned unexpectedly, just before dinner, and was now undergoing his father’s smiles, his mother’s embraces, and his sisters’ questions.

‘Quite unexpectedly,’ said Mr Gazebee. ‘I don’t know what has brought him back before his time. I suppose he found London too hot.’

‘Deuced hot,’ said the baronet. ‘I found it so, at least. I don’t know what keeps men in London when it’s so hot; except those fellows who have business to do: they’re paid for it.’

Mr Mortimer Gazebee looked at him. He was managing an estate which owed Sir Louis an enormous sum of money, and, therefore, he could not afford to despise the baronet; but he thought to himself, what a very abject fellow the man would be if he were not a baronet, and had not a large fortune!

And the squire came in. His broad, honest face was covered with a smile when he saw the doctor.

‘Thorne,’ said he, almost in a whisper, ‘you’re the best fellow breathing; I have hardly deserved this.’ The doctor, as he took his old friend’s hand, could not but be glad that he had followed Mary’s counsel.

‘So Frank has come home?’

‘Oh, yes; quite unexpectedly. He was to have stayed a week longer in London. You would hardly know him if you met him. Sir Louis, I beg your pardon.’ And the squire went up to his other guest, who had remained somewhat sullenly standing in one corner of the room. He was the man of highest rank present, or to be present, and he expected to be treated as such.

‘I am happy to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Mr Gresham,’ said the baronet, intending to be very courteous. ‘Though we have not met before, I very often see your name in my accounts — ha! ha! ha!’ and Sir Louis laughed as though he had said something very good.

The meeting between Lady Arabella and the doctor was rather distressing to the former; but she managed to get over it. She shook hands with him graciously, and said that it was a fine day. The doctor said that it was fine, only perhaps a little rainy. And then they went into different parts of the room.

When Frank came in, the doctor hardly did know him. His hair was darker than it had been, and so was his complexion; but his chief disguise was in a long silken beard, which hung down over his cravat. The doctor had hitherto not been much in favour of long beards, but he could not deny that Frank looked very well with the appendage.

‘Oh, doctor, I am so delighted to find you here,’ said he, coming up to him; ‘so very, very glad:’ and, taking the doctor’s arm, he led him away into a window, where they were alone. ‘And how is Mary?’ said he, almost in a whisper. ‘Oh, I wish she were here! But, doctor, it shall all come in time. But tell me, doctor, there is no news about her, is there?’

‘News — what news?’

‘Oh, well; no news is good news: you will give her my love, won’t you?’

The doctor said that he would. What else could he say? It appeared quite clear to him that some of Mary’s fears were groundless.

Frank was again very much altered. It has been said, that though he was a boy at twenty-one, he was a man at twenty-two. But now, at twenty-three, he appeared to be almost a man of the world. His manners were easy, his voice under his control, and words were at his command: he was no longer either shy or noisy; but, perhaps, was open to the charge of seeming, at least, to be too conscious of his own merits. He was, indeed, very handsome; tall, manly, and powerfully built, his form was such as women’s eyes have ever loved to look upon. ‘Ah, if he would but marry money!’ said Lady Arabella to herself, taken up by a mother’s natural admiration for her son. His sisters clung around him before dinner, all talking to him at once. How proud a family of girls are of one, big, tall, burly brother!

‘You don’t mean to tell me, Frank, that you are going to eat soup with that beard?’ said the squire, when they were seated round the table. He had not ceased to rally his son as to this patriarchal adornment; but, nevertheless, any one could have seen, with half and eye, that he was as proud of it as were the others.

‘Don’t I, sir? All I require is a relay of napkins for every course;’ and he went to work, covering it with every spoonful, as men with beards always do.

‘Well, if you like it!’ said the squire, shrugging his shoulders.

‘But I do like it,’ said Frank.

‘Oh, papa, you wouldn’t have him cut it off,’ said one of the twins. ‘It is so handsome.’

‘I should like to work it into a chair-back instead of floss-silk,’ said the other twin.

‘Thank ‘ee, Sophy; I’ll remember you for that.’

‘Doesn’t it look nice, and grand, and patriarchal?’ said Beatrice, turning to her neighbour.

‘Patriarchal, certainly,’ said Mr Oriel. ‘I should grow one myself if I had not the fear of the archbishop before my eyes.’

What was next said to him was in a whisper, audible only to himself.

‘Doctor, did you know Wildman of the Ninth. He was left as surgeon at Scutari for two years. Why, my beard to his is only a little down.’

‘A little way down, you mean,’ said Mr Gazebee.

‘Yes,’ said Frank, resolutely set against laughing at Mr Gazebee’s pun. ‘Why, his beard descends to his ankles, and he is obliged to tie it in a bag at night, because his feet get entangled in it when he is asleep!’

‘Oh, Frank!’ said one of the girls.

This was all very well for the squire, and Lady Arabella, and the girls. They were all delighted to praise Frank, and talk about him. Neither did it come amiss to Mr Oriel and the doctor, who had both a personal interest in the young hero. But Sir Louis did not like it at all. He was the only baronet in the room, and yet nobody took any notice of him. He was seated in the post of honour, next to Lady Arabella; but even Lady Arabella seemed to think more of her own son than of him. Seeing he was ill-used, he meditated revenge; but not the less did it behove him to make some effort to attract attention.

‘Was your ladyship in London, this season?’

Lady Arabella had not been in London at all this year, and it was a sore subject with her. ‘No,’ said she, very graciously; ‘circumstances have kept us at home.’

‘Ah, indeed! I am very sorry for that; that must be very distressing to a person like your ladyship. But things are mending, perhaps?’

Lady Arabella did not in the least understand him. ‘Mending!’ she said, in her peculiar tone of aristocratic indifference; and then turned to Mr Gazebee, who was on the other side of her.

Sir Louis was not going to stand this. He was the first man in the room, and he knew his own importance. It was not to be borne that Lady Arabella should turn to talk to a dirty attorney, and leave him, a baronet, to eat his dinner without notice. If nothing else would move her, he would let her know who was the real owner of the Greshamsbury title-deeds.

‘I think I saw your ladyship out today, taking a ride,’ Lady Arabella had driven through the village in her pony-chair.

‘I never ride,’ said she, turning her head for one moment from Mr Gazebee.

‘In the one-horse carriage, I mean, my lady. I was delighted with the way you whipped him up round the corner.’

Whipped him up round the corner! Lady Arabella could make no answer to this; so she went on talking to Mr Gazebee. Sir Louis, repulsed, but not vanquished-resolved not to be vanquished by any Lady Arabella — turned his attention to his plate for a minute or two, and then recommenced.

‘The honour of a glass of wine with you, Lady Arabella,’ said he.’

‘I never take wine at dinner,’ said Lady Arabella. The man was becoming intolerable to her, and she was beginning to fear that it would be necessary for her to fly the room to get rid of him.

The baronet was again silent for a moment; but he was determined not to be put down.

‘This is a nice-looking country about her,’ said he.

‘Yes; very nice,’ said Mr Gazebee, endeavouring to relieve the lady of the mansion.

‘I hardly know which I like best; this, or my own place at Boxall Hill. You have the advantage here in trees, and those sort of things. But, as to the house, why, my box there is very comfortable, very. You’d hardly know the place now, Lady Arabella, if you haven’t seen it since my governor bought it. How much do you think he spent about the house and grounds, pineries included, you know, and those sort of things.’

Lady Arabella shook her head.

‘Now guess, my lady,’ said he. But it was not to be supposed that Lady Arabella should guess on such a subject.

‘............