Hobhouse's giggle, and they
set off down to the farm, the antiquary in front limping rather more
markedly than usual, and the idiot rambling behind.
The visit to the Scollays was a distinct success, so far as establishing
the personality of Mr. Thomas Sylvester Hobhouse went. At first they
looked at him with an obvious suspicion and replied to his questions
with a reticence that gave him a few uneasy moments. But in ten minutes
his indefatigable friendliness had conquered the household and he knew
that he was safe to visit that knoll whenever the fancy took him. Peter
senior told him a long story about the fairies who were seen dancing
round the knoll in his father's time, and though his family were
evidently a little distressed by his reference to anything so
unfashionable, and Jock hooted several times, their visitor exhibited the
liveliest interest and put the tale religiously down in his note book.
This was all that could be done at the moment; the establishment of a
perfectly harmless reputation and of a natural reason for visiting that
particular place at odd times. Mr. Hobhouse obtained permission to do a
little digging there if he desired it, and parted with the family on the
best of terms.
"Slow work!" he said to himself as he struck out for home, with his limp
rapidly vanishing.
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