The boy spent placid hours in rich meadows, ate a
quantity of scalded cream, and grew out of knowledge
in the six months of his stay. He used to wander down
to the park gates — gloriously wrought-iron gates be-
tween massive stone pillars that bore on each summit a
quintett of cannon balls, the reputed trophy of some
sea-faring Elizabethan Lovely. There was a picture in
the great hall, of curiously inferior execution, portraying
numbers of Devon sailormen led by a huge-ruffed
gentleman with a long peaked beard, swarming up the
towering sides of the galleon Jesu Maria. Charles was
taken to see it when the new family was gone up to
London town. He also saw the great stone swan over
the vast fireplace, with the motto of his house, Sum
decorus.
Later in the autumn his father returned and the old
life of lodgings, inland Spas and long posting journeys
was resumed. He had never again visited that remote
Devon village, with its cows and pastures and dairy-
maids and famous chronicles.
Then, just after Charles reached his majority, Mr.
Lovely Senior died quite suddenly, and our hero found
himself in undisputed possession of the interest on five
thousand guineas and as much more in cash, owing to a
lucky run by his father in the week before his death.
Charles now indulged the family vice of throwing
money to the dogs, and, having lost the earnings of his
father, set about realizing a trifle of ready money on the
five thousand guineas left him by his mother's aunt.
