Outside George pursued his way along a path up the mountain-side, his rage cooling, and growing more and more ashamed of himself. He thought highly of Lance, and was troubled at showing before him so much anger over a trifle; for trifle it was he realized. An hour’s brisk walking brought his pulses down, and he presently retraced his steps down the mountain. He was not in the mood to observe much, though he walked back rather slowly. He reached the house at one o’clock, just as Lord Fairfax came out of his study to dinner. The table was laid as usual in the hall. Behind the earl’s place stood Lance, while Billy’s head just peered above George’s chair.