Sir James said no more, but stood a little apart looking at his son.

Lady Torridon smiled rather pleasantly and nodded her head two or three times, and Ralph, with Mr.Carleton, stood on the gravel below, his hand on Chris's crupper, smiling up at him.
"Good-bye, Chris," he said, and added with an unusual piety, "God keep you!" As the two horses passed through the gatehouse, Chris turned once again with swimming eyes, and saw the group a little re-arranged.

Sir James and Ralph were standing together, Ralph's arm thrust through his father's; Mr.Carleton was still on the gravel, and Lady Torridon was walking very deliberately back to the house.
* * * * * The distance to Lewes was about fourteen miles, and it was not until they had travelled some two of them, and had struck off towards Burgess Hill that Chris turned his head for Mr.Morris to come up.
It was very strange to him to ride through that familiar country, where he had ridden hundreds of times before, and to know that this was probably the last time that he would pass along those lanes, at least under the same circumstances.

It had the same effect on him, as a death in the house would have; the familiar things were the same, but they wore a new and strange significance.

The few men and children he passed saluted him deferentially as usual, and then turned fifty yards further on and stared at the young gentleman who, as they knew, was riding off on such an errand, and with such grave looks.
Mr.Morris came up with an eager respectfulness at Chris's sign, keeping a yard or two away lest the swinging luggage on his own horse should discompose the master, and answered a formal question or two about the roads and the bags, which Chris put to him as a gambit of conversation.
The servant was clever and well trained, and knew how to modulate his attitude to the precise degree of deference due to his master and his master's relations; he had entered Ralph's service from Cromwell's own eight years before.