had been pleasant enough in its way, but far too much after the pattern of all other dinner-parties to please a young man who hated all c

is loud cheery voice, “we must have something for

you mean,

e people will expect it. Last night polished off the swe

ane, with a slight contr

vereign at Briarwood hitherto; henceforth she could only live there on sufferance. The house was Rorie’s. Eve

’s time — fifty years ago. The Duke’s stud-groom was telling me about it last year. He’s a Hampshire man, you know, born and bred in the Forest. We’ll have a lawn meet and a hunting breakfast; and it shall be open

derick. You are sole master he

ver forget who made the place what it is? The gardens have been your

omising too much. When you marry, your wife will be mistress of

ill be half-a-dozen years before I sha

arriage — a suitable marriage, that is to say — would give you an incentive to earnestness and

oo well to pen myself up in a study and pore over blue-books, or to waste the summer evenings listening to the member for Little Peddlington laying down the law about combination drainage, or the proposed loo

y of your father’s name,” Lady

st have been. You should hear how the old people talk of him. I think I inherit his tastes, instead of my father’s. Hereditary genius crops up in curious ways, you know. Perhaps

oderick. It is for you

y. “Don’t I tell you that you are mi

nd of entertainment I should ever dream of giving. I am not complaining, mind. It is natural enough for you to like that kind of thing; and, as master of this house, it is

lses turned to a sense of constraint

u would like to be asked?” said his mothe

e Duke,” answered Rorie. “He’ll e

nd going round the paddocks to look at the brood-mares and their foals; these latter being eccentric little animals, all head and legs, which nestled close to the mother’s side for a mi

n hour’s perambulation of the paddocks they went to the house, where they found the Duchess and Lady Mabel in the morning-ro

put in a plea for her school-children. It would be such a treat for the little thing

e or four tents rigged up for refreshments. There shall be plenty to eat and drink for everybody.

ady Mabel, “and the

elder brother’s tenderness; “she’ll be as pl

t shine in the field,

, Mab. The Duke will f

r her,” said the Duke; “but she’ll nev

” said Rorie; “and she must c

ie, if you wish

went back to Briarwood to mount h

od open, and he saw the glow of the logs on the wide hearth, and the Squire’s stalwart figure sitting in the great arm

round to the stables,

the bell, at which summons a man appeared

had shaken hands with Mr. Tempest and his daughter,

s out this morning at Hilberry Green, and there was a good muster, Jack Purdy says; but I f

u ill, papa,” said Violet

bsent-minded way, evidently full of anxiety about her father. She was very pale, a

r, you know, Rorie, and a quick run shakes me more than it used. Old Martin, our family doctor, has been against my hunting for a long time; b

ask you a favour, and now I feel as it

ire his views about a lawn meet at Briarwoo

an, you know, thoroughbred to the finger-nails; but she has kept herself a little too much to herself. There are people old enough to remember what Briarwoo

ome with you,

cour

ll and strong

eed trouble me this day week. A man may have a headache,

Don’t you think he ought to see the doctor

tin would starve me. That’s his only idea of medical t