“Thank God for that!” was the fervent reply.
The two friends rode on, until, as the sun rose and it grew warmer, they turned their horses for home.
They were still a long way from Kingswood when they saw it silhouetted on the horizon, its roofs and towers gleaming in the sunshine, the trees vivid with the green of spring, circling it like a jewel.
“I have often thought,” the Major remarked as he looked at it, “that Kingswood is the most beautiful house in the whole country.”
“I agree with you,” the Duke replied, “but then I presume I am prejudiced.”
“It is too big for one man alone,” the Major went on. “It should be filled with children – your children, Nolan.”
The Duke rode on without speaking and his friend wondered, as he had wondered so often before, what was the secret which had
