be any further misunderstanding."

"I think it very probable that there will be," said George. "I only
hope he'll let me have the old horse to take me back to Shap if there
is. There he is at the front door, so I shan't have to go into the
room without a fire."

The old man was standing at the hall steps when the car drove up, as
though to welcome his grandson. He put out his hand to help Kate down
the steps, keeping his eye all the time on George's face.

"So you've come back," the squire said to him.

"Yes, sir;--I've come back, like the prodigal son in the parable."

"The prodigal son was contrite. I hope you are so."

"Pretty well for that, sir. I'm sorry there has been any quarrel, and
all that, you know."

"Go in," said the squire, very angrily. "Go in. To expect anything
gracious from you would be to expect pearls from swine. Go in."

George went in, shrugging his shoulders as his eyes met his sister's.
It was in this fashion that the reconciliation took place between
Squire Vavasor and his heir.

CHAPTER XXXIX

Mr Cheesacre's Hospitality

As the winter wore itself away, Mr Cheesacre, happy as he was amidst
the sports of Norfolk, and prosperous as he might be with the augean
spoils of Oileymead, fretted himself with an intense anxiety to bring
to a close that affair which he had on his hands with the widow
Greenow. There were two special dangers which disturbed him. She
would give herself and all her money to that adventurer, Bellfield;
or else she would spend her own money so fast before he got hold upon
it, that the prize would be greatly damaged. "I'm ---- if she hasn't
been and set up a carriage!" he said to himself one day, as standing
on the pavement of Tombland, in Norwich, he saw Mrs Greenow issue
forth from the Close in a private brougham, accompanied by one of the
Fairstairs girls. "She's been and set up her carriage as sure as my
name's Cheesacre!"

Whatever reason he might have to fear the former danger, we may
declare that he had none whatever as to the latter. Mrs Greenow knew
what she was doing with her money as well as any lady in England. The
private carriage was only a hired brougham taken by the month, and as
to that boy in buttons whom she had lately established, why should
she not keep a young servant, and call him a page, if it gave her any
comfort to do so? If Mr Cheesacre had also known that she had lent
the Fairstairs family fifty pounds to help them through with