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Updated: May 26, 2025
His father paused by him on the way to the carriage. 'What do you propose to do with yourself, Wilf? lie asked. 'Ride, I think. 'Do. Go over to Hilstead and lunch there. Capital lunch they give you at the inn; the last time I was there they cooked me one of the best chops I ever ate. Oberon wants exercise; make a day of it. 'Very well.
Let the stretch of green-shadowing woodland sweep by like a dream; let the fair, sweet meadow-sides smile for a moment and vanish; let the dark hill-summits rise and sink. It is the time of youth and hope, of boundless faith in the world's promises, of breathless pursuit. Hilstead was gained long before lunch could be thought of.
'If I were you, Wilf, she said, 'I'd go off somewhere for the day. The twins will only worry you. Wilfrid laughed. 'I am going to eat unexampled chops at the "Waggoner" in Hilstead, he replied. 'That's right. Good-bye, my dear boy. I wish you'd get fatter. 'Pooh, I'm all right. The landau rolled away. Wilfrid still loitered in the hall, a singular look of doubt on his face.
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