this impression on his mind, he firmly grasped his thick walking-stick as he thought—I must humour the old bald-pate and keep him civil: it is lucky that I have taken him out of Winstanley's way, for he might have alarmed the poor fellow and done mischief. Mr. Bouncer said, "Are you fond of missionary meetings, sir?"
Thought the Doctor to himself—How his mind wanders! I must humour him by answering his questions. "Well, I don't profess to any overweening attachment for them. I think that we ought to be able to do with out them; but I suppose they are necessary in our imperfect state of existence."
Little Mr. Bouncer thought to himself—Sold again! If he's a parson, he 's not a deputation.
By this time they had reached the tiny lodge. Mr. Bouncer held open the drive-gate, and signified by his action that he would there take leave of his companion; who, however, said to him, "Do you mind giving me the pleasure of your company just a little way along the road?"
Mr. Bouncer replied, "Certainly, if you wish it." But he thought—The woman at the lodge would not be of much use, except for screaming; and I don't know what excuse I could make for calling her. I only wish I 'd time to let Huz and Buz loose; they would have been some protection in case of accident, and would have worried the old bald-pate's pantaloons if he took it in his head to turn obstreperous. He 's the rummiest parson that I 've met for many a day.
So Dr. Dustacre and Mr. Bouncer, turning their backs on the tiny lodge, walked along the road by the skirts of a plantation that marked the boundary of Mr. Smalls' picturesque little park. In the plantation was a thick
