Ah! there it is just as it was, he was continually exclaiming. Theres my old sock-shop
soake , a local term for baking, is the better spelling. I spent money enough there, so perhaps they will remember me; so we will have a look in there by-and-by. Ah! theres the Christopher too, where we will go and dine. I dare say Lindsay will ask us; but I must be back in town to-night, and it would delay me to accept his invitation, and perhaps we may fall in with some acquaintance whom you may like to ask to dine with us. The Christopher was an hotel, Reginald found, much patronised by the boys and their friends. Mr Lindsay was in school, but Mrs Lindsay was at home, and received them very kindly. Reginald thought her a very nice person, and so she was, and contributed much, as a lady always can if she sets the right way about it, to make the house thoroughly comfortable and pleasant to its inmates. She told Reginald that his room was ready for him. How proud he felt to find that he was to have one entirely to himself! His things were at once taken up to it, and he begged the Squire to come up and have a look at it. It was not very large; but the walls were neatly papered, and it looked perfectly clean. Neither was the furniture of a grand description. There was a bedstead, which, when turned up, looked like a cupboard, and a sideboard of painted deal, a small oak chest of drawers, or rather a bureau, in the upper part of which cups and saucers, and plates, and a metal teapot, and a few knives and forks and a muffin-dish, were arranged, and there was a deal table covered with a red cloth, and two rather hard horsehair-bottomed chairs.
Here we are, sir, said Reginald, as the maidservant with considerable discretion retired, that the young gentleman might look about him. Sit down and make yourself at home; I feel so already. The place has capabilities, and I hope that the next time you pay me a visit, you will find that I have taken advantage of them. I will get some pictures, and hang them up, and some pegs for my hats find fishing-rods, and hooks for my bats, and then a Dutch oven, and a frying-pan, and a better kettle than that will be useful in winter.
Perhaps you will not object to an arm-chair or a sofa, observed the Squire.
An arm-chair, certainly, answered Reginald, thank you; but with regard to a sofa, they are all very well for women. I think, however, that if a fellows legs ache, he may put them up on another chair, and if he has got an arm-chair to lean back in, he will do very well.
You are right, Reginald; I hate luxurious habits, said the Squire. Do not give way to them. They are not so bad in themselves as in consequence of what they lead to self-indulgence and indolence: this is the vice of the present day. But come along, we have plenty to do.
The Squire, leaving word that he would call again, took Reginald back into the town. They were getting hungry, so very naturally they proceeded in the first place to the well-remembered sock-shop, known by the world at large as a pastry-cooks. A supply of ices and strawberry messes was at once ordered and discussed with great gusto, buns and other cakes giving some consistency to the repast. Who would have expected to see Squire Warrender, of Blessingham, who had not perhaps for years taken any other than a solid meat luncheon, with bottled stout, or a biscuit and a glass of wine, lunching off sweet cakes and strawberries and cream? But the truth was, that he did not feel just then a bit like Squire Warrender, of Blessingham; he was once more little Reginald Warrender, somewhat of a pickle, and very fond of those said luscious articles. To be sure another Reginald Warrender stood by his side; but he was, as it were, a part of himself, or it might he himself, or a younger companion. At all events he felt a great deal too young just then to be anybodys father, and was quite surprised that the young women behind the counter did not recognise him. Surely they were the very same he must have known. While they were eating away, an old lady with spectacles on her nose, and a high white cap on her head, came into the shop.
I have come with this youngster here to show him about the place, said the Squire. This is a shop I used to know well once upon a time; but the young ladies here dont seem to recognise me.
I should think not, said the old lady, laughing, as did the young ones. Perhaps I might though, if I knew your name. What years were you here?
The Squire told her.
I was about their age then, and stood where they now stand, she observed, as she went into an inner room, and brought down a longish parchment-covered volume. Oh, I now remember you perfectly well, Master Warrender, said she, turning over the pages, and evidently also forgetting how many years had rolled away since the Squire was Master Warrender. You were a very good customer of ours, that
you were, indeed. You had a good healthy appetite: six dozen oranges, three dozen queencakes, a couple of dozen hot-cross buns for breakfast on one occasion. I suppose you didnt eat them all yourself though. And now I see you left owing us a little account. It was no great matter; only fifteen and sixpence for cherries and strawberries.