"Shouldn't I like to see one of these John Guttles trudging over a moor!"
"He wouldn't trudge far, Conal; he would tumble down and gasp like an over-fed ox."
"I say, Duncan, I haven't seen anybody with a plaid yet."
"No, and you won't. Top-coats--nothing else--and tobacco-pipes. No wonder most of those male creatures on the tops of the 'buses are watery-nebbit or red-nosed."
Now, however, private carriages began to mingle with the traffic, and the boys had more to wonder at. But inside these they caught glimpses of fashionable ladies, some young, charmingly dressed, and of a cast of beauty truly English and refined. What astonished Duncan and his brother most was the coachman and flunkeys on the dickey, so severely and stupidly aristocratic did they look.
"Oh, Duncan," cried Conal laughing, "did ever you see such frights! and they've got on ladies' fur tippets!"
"Yes, that is to keep their poor shivery bodies warm, Conal."
"And they look just as if they owned all London, don't they?"
"Yes, that is one of the peculiarities of the flunkey tribe. What's the odds, Conal, so long as they are happy?"
The cab seemed to have reached the suburbs at last. Here were many a pleasant villa, and many a lordly mansion too, with splendid balconies, which were in reality gardens in the sky. There were trees, too, though now almost bare, and green lawns and bushes and flowers.
But none of these latter appealed to our young heroes because they were all so artificial.
Hillo! the cab stops; and the driver, radiant in the expectation of a tip, throws open the door.
"'Ere we are at last, young gents. 'Appy to drink yer 'ealth. Thousand thanks! Hain't seen a 'alf-crown before for a month. Nobuddy needn't say to me as the Scots ain't liberal."
One of the handsomest villas the boys had yet seen, and in the porch thereof stood Colonel Trelawney himself to welcome his guests.
"Right welcome to the Limes," he cried heartily. "Frank is out, but he'll be home to luncheon. Why, what tall hardy chaps you are, to be sure, and I'm right glad you came in your native dress. I wonder how my boy would look in the kilt. It's a matter of legs, I believe."
"Oh, sir," said Duncan, "he'll soon get legs when he comes to the Highlands, and climbs the hills and walks the moors for a few months."