J. D. Beresford

“ The car running down a slight incline with a free engine had almost stopped. The chauffeur appeared to be deep in thought.
"At Mr Kenyon's age ..." he began tentatively
"One would not expect him to be quite the man he was at twenty-eight," Arthur supplied.
"Exactly, sir, one wouldn't," the chauffeur replied in the tone of one aroused to a consciousness of his immediate duties; and he let in the clutch and speeded up the car with an effect of turning his attention to more pressing affairs. ”

“ A little river, its point of entrance hidden by the close shrubberies and plantations that shut out all sight of the ugly boundary wall on the garden side, cascaded not too artificially, out of obscurity into the sunlight, ran as a decently restrained little river for a hundred yards or so between close-cut lawns, the upper one of which was bordered by a row of graceful wych elms ”

“ Old Kenyon might take a fancy to him. Some one in the house, some special favourite of the old man's, might be taken seriously ill, and Arthur Woodroffe, the brilliant young general practitioner from Peckham, would work a miracle at the eleventh hour. Old Mr Kenyon's gratitude would take a practical form, and the thing was done. There were other variants of the dream, but this seemed to be the most promising.
A car was waiting for him at Hartling Station, but neither his aunt nor any of his connections by marriage had come to meet him. ”