street, and at the far end of it was that undoubtedly Elizabethan
hostelry, the Ambermere Arms, full to overflowing of ancient tables and
bible-boxes, and fire-dogs and fire-backs, and bottles and chests and
settles. These were purchased in large quantities by the American
tourists who swarmed there during the summer months, at a high profit
to the nimble proprietor, who thereupon purchased fresh antiquities to
take their places. The Ambermere Arms in fact was the antique furniture
shop of the place, and did a thriving trade, for it was much more
interesting to buy objects out of a real old Elizabethan inn, than out
of a shop.

Georgie had put his smart military cape over his arm for his walk, and
at intervals applied his slim forefinger to one nostril, while he
breathed in through the other, continuing the practice which he had
observed going on in Mrs Quantock's garden. Though it made him a little
dizzy, it certainly produced a sort of lightness, but soon he
remembered the letter from Mrs Quantock which Lucia had read out,
warning her that these exercises ought to be taken under instruction,
and so desisted. He was going to deliver Lucia's answer at Mrs
Quantock's house, and with a view to possibly meeting the Guru, and
being introduced to him, he said over to himself "Guru, Guru, Guru"
instead of doing deep breathing, in order to accustom himself to the
unusual syllables.

It would, of course, have been very strange and un-Riseholme-like to
have gone to a friend's door, even though the errand was so impersonal
a one as bearing somebody else's note, without enquiring whether the
friend was in, and being instantly admitted if she was, and as a matter
of fact, Georgie caught a glimpse, when the knocker was answered (Mrs
Quantock did not have a bell at all), through the open door of the