"William," said he, "how long have you had this horse?"
"About two years," said Mr. Podington; "before I got him, I used to
drive a pair."
"Heavens!" thought Buller, "how lucky I was not to come two years
ago!" And his regrets for not sooner visiting his friend greatly
decreased.
Now they came to a place where the stream, by which the road ran, had
been dammed for a mill and had widened into a beautiful pond.
"There now!" cried Mr. Buller. "That's what I like. William, you seem
to have everything! This is really a very pretty sheet of water, and
the reflections of the trees over there make a charming picture; you
can't get that at the seaside, you know."
Mr. Podington was delighted; his face glowed; he was rejoiced at the
pleasure of his friend. "I tell you, Thomas," said he, "that----"
"William!" exclaimed Buller, with a sudden squirm in his seat, "what
is that I hear? Is that a train?"
"Yes," said Mr. Podington, "that is the ten-forty, up."
"Does it come near here?" asked Mr. Buller, nervously. "Does it go
over that bridge?"
"Yes," said Podington, "but it can't hurt us, for our road goes under
the bridge; we are perfectly safe; there is no risk of accident.
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