On the previous Saturday night the gentlemen had entered into an argument about boating: the result was that a match on the river was arranged, and some bets were pending on it.
It had been fixed to come off this day, Monday; but if the rain continued to come down, it must be postponed; for the ladies, who had been promised the treat, would not venture out to see it.
"It has come on purpose," grumbled Lord Hartledon.

"Yesterday was as fine and bright as it could be, the glass standing at set fair; and now, just because this boating was to come off, the rain peppers down!" The rain excepted, it was a fair vision that he looked out upon.

The room faced the back of the house, and beyond the lovely grounds green slopes extended to the river, tolerably wide here, winding peacefully in its course.

The distant landscape was almost like a scene from fairyland.
The restless dowager--in a nondescript head-dress this morning, adorned with an upright tuft of red feathers and voluminous skirts of brown net, a jacket and flounces to match--betook herself to the side of Lord Hartledon.
"Where d'you get the boats ?" she asked.
"They are kept lower down, at the boat-house," he replied, puffing at his cigar.

"You can't see it from here; it's beyond Dr.Ashton's; lots of 'em; any number to be had for the hiring.