quire, with an old house and a few acres--the remnants
of a large estate gambled away by his father. I know him by name, and I'm
quite sure that he knows me. If I had offered him my card, as I thought of
doing, I dare say his tone would have changed.'

This pettishness amused me so much that I pretended to be a little sore
myself.

'His poverty, I suppose, has spoilt his temper.'

'No doubt,--I can understand that,' he added, with a smile. 'But I don't
allow people to treat me like a tramp. I shall go up and see him this
afternoon.'

'And insist on an apology?'

'Oh, there'll be no need of insisting. The fellow has several unmarried
daughters.'

It seemed to me that my companion was bent on showing his worst side. I
returned to my old thoughts of him; he was snobbish, insolent, generally
detestable; but a man to be studied, and I let him talk as he would.

The reduced squire was Mr. Humphrey Armitage, of Brackley Hall. For my own
part, the demeanour of this gentleman had seemed perfectly adapted to the
occasion; we were strangers plunging through his preserves, and his tone to
us had nothing improper; it was we who owed an apology. In point of
breeding, I felt sure that Ireton could not compare with Mr. Armitage for a
moment, and it seemed to me vastly improbable that the invader of Brackley
Hall would meet with the kind of reception he anticipated.

I saw Ireton when he set out to pay his call. His Gladstone-bags had
provided him with the costume of Piccadilly; from shining hat to
patent-leather shoes, he was immaculate. Seeing that he had to walk more
than a mile, that the month was September, and that he could not pretend to
have come straight from town, this apparel struck me as not a little
inappropriate; I could only suppose that the man had no social tact.

At seven in the evening he again sought me. His urban glories were
exchanged for the ordinary attire, but I at once read in his face that he
had suffered no humiliation.

'Come and dine with me at the inn,' he exclaimed cordially; 'if one may use
such a word as _dine_ under the circumstances.'

'With pleasure.'

'To-morrow I dine with the Armitages.'

He regarded me with an air of infinite satisfaction. Surprised, I held my
peace. 'It was as I foresaw. The old fellow welcomed me with open arms. His
daughters gave me tea. I had really a very pleasant time.'

I mused and wondered.

'You didn't expect it; I can see that.'

'You told me that Mr