I always believed that it
was a tumulus, but of late years a lot of these clever people have
been taking their oath that it is an ancient British dwelling, as
though Ancient Britons, or any one else for that matter, could live in
a kind of drainhole. But they got on the soft side of your old aunt--
who, by the way, begging your pardon, was a wonderfully obstinate old
lady when once she hammered an idea into her head--and so she set to
work and built this slate mushroom over the place, and one way and
another it cost her two hundred and fifty pounds. Dear me! I shall
never forget her face when she saw the bill," and the old gentleman
burst out into a Titanic laugh, such as Harold Quaritch had not heard
for many a long day.
"Yes," he answered, "it is a queer spot. I think that I must have a
dig at it one day."
"By Jove," said the Squire, "I never thought of that. It would be
worth doing. Hulloa, it is twenty minutes past seven, and we dine at
half past. I shall catch it from Ida. Come on, Colonel Quaritch; you
don't know what it is to have a daughter--a daughter when one is late
for dinner is a serious thing for any man," and he started off down
the hill in a hurry.
Very soon, however, he seemed to forget the terrors in store, and
strolled along, stopping now and again to admire some particular oak
or view; chatting all the while in a discursive manner, which, though
somewhat aimless, was by no means without its charm.
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