I'm afraid I haven't the patience or the philosophy to sit down comfortably and wait for a change of fortune that won't come in my time--if it comes at all." Cicely changed the drift of the conversation; she had only introduced the argument for the purpose of defining her point of view and accustoming Yeovil to it, as one leads a nervous horse up to an unfamiliar barrier that he is required eventually to jump.
"In any case," she said, "from the immediately practical standpoint England is the best place for you till you have shaken off all traces of that fever.

Pass the time away somehow till the hunting begins, and then go down to the East Wessex country; they are looking out for a new master after this season, and if you were strong enough you might take it on for a while.

You could go to Norway for fishing in the summer and hunt the East Wessex in the winter.

I'll come down and do a bit of hunting too, and we'll have house-parties, and get a little golf in between whiles.

It will be like old times." Yeovil looked at his wife and laughed.
"Who was that old fellow who used to hunt his hounds regularly through the fiercest times of the great Civil War?
There is a picture of him, by Caton Woodville, I think, leading his pack between King Charles's army and the Parliament forces just as some battle was going to begin.