Heyton slept badly that night and came down to breakfast after Lord
Sutcombe and Miriam had finished theirs and gone out. He was in a bad
temper, cursed the footman who waited on him, and when he had drunk a
cup of coffee and made pretence of eating a piece of toast, mixed
himself a glass of soda and whisky and went out.

He wandered about the park, and did not come in to lunch, but when he
appeared at dinner, he was more than usually cheerful and talked to
Miriam and his father in the aimless and futile way with which a man
talks when he is engaged in the unaccustomed task of making himself
agreeable. Both Miriam and his father noticed that he was more sparing
of the wine than usual, and Lord Sutcombe, who thought that Miriam had
given Percy a hint, glanced at her gratefully.

"Where have you been all day, Percy?" asked Miriam, masking her
indifference with a show of curiosity.

"Oh, I've been mouching about," he said. "Looking round the estate
generally." He fingered his glass and glanced across at the Marquess.
"They seem to look after the preserves pretty well," he said; "but I
noticed that there was a gipsy encampment down by the pool. Unpleasant
sort of characters to have about you. I should clear them away, father."

"I know the gipsy encampment you mean," said the Marquess; "but they are
pitched on that piece of common land; it is just outside the estate, and
we have no power to remove them. Besides," he added, "I've a kind of
liking for them; they do no harm; and they are, well, picturesque, don't
you think, Miriam?"