A little laurel-shaded temple of white marble looked out on the river from a knoll bordering the Raynham beechwoods, and was dubbed by Adrian Daphne's Bower.

To this spot Richard had retired, and there Austin found him with his head buried in his hands, a picture of desperation, whose last shift has been defeated.

He allowed Austin to greet him and sit by him without lifting his head.

Perhaps his eyes were not presentable.
"Where's your friend ?" Austin began.
"Gone!" was the answer, sounding cavernous from behind hair and fingers.
An explanation presently followed, that a summons had come for him in the morning from Mr.Thompson; and that Mr.Ripton had departed against his will.
In fact, Ripton had protested that he would defy his parent and remain by his friend in the hour of adversity and at the post of danger.

Sir Austin signified his opinion that a boy should obey his parent, by giving orders to Benson for Ripton's box to be packed and ready before noon; and Ripton's alacrity in taking the baronet's view of filial duty was as little feigned as his offer to Richard to throw filial duty to the winds.