Byby. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. “Rummy lot we are!” said Roddy. "Curse him!" muttered Abraham. Sir John stood upon the threshold. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. He wanted to talk with the patient, test him variously; and he wanted to be alone with him while he put these tests.
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