as the nearest thing there was to a Paradise on Earth.  Could he have been allowed to pass one or two special laws for his own protection, there might still have been improvements.  He would like the right to have all intruders thrashed by the gillies within an inch of their lives; and he would have had a clause in his lease against the making of any new roads, opening of footpaths, or building of bridges.  He had seen somewhere in print a plan for running a railway from Callender to Fort Augustus right through Crummie-Toddie!  If this were done in his time the beauty of the world would be over.  Reginald Dobbes was a man of about forty, strong, active, well-made, about five feet ten in height, with broad shoulders and greatly-developed legs.  He was not a handsome man, having a protrusive nose, high cheek-bones, and long upper lip; but there was a manliness about his face which redeemed it.  Sport was the business of his life, and he thoroughly despised all who were not sportsmen.  He fished and shot and hunted during nine or ten months of the year, filling up his time as best he might with coaching polo, and pigeon-shooting.  He regarded it as a great duty to keep his body in the firmest possible condition.  All his eating and all his drinking was done upon a system, and he would consider himself to be guilty of weak self-indulgence were he to allow himself to break through sanitary rules.  But it never occurred to him that his whole life was one of self-indulgence.  He could walk his thirty miles with his gun on his shoulder as well now as he could ten years ago; and being sure of this, was thoroughly contented with himself.  He had a patrimony amounting to perhaps 1000 pounds a year, which he husbanded so as to enjoy all his amusements to perfection.  No one had ever heard of his sponging on his friends.  Of money he rarely spoke, sport being in his estimation the only subject worthy of a man’s words.  Such was Reginald Dobbes, who was now to be the master of the shooting at Crummie-Toddie.

Crummie-Toddie was but twelve miles from Killancodlem, Mrs Montacute Jones’s highland seat; and it was this vicinity which first induced Lord Silverbridge to join the party.  Mabel Grex was to be at Killancodlem, and, determined as he still was to ask her to be his wife, he would make this opportunity.  Of real opportunity there had been none at Richmond.  Since he had had his ring altered and had sent it to her there had come but a word or two of answer.  ’What am I to say?  You unkindest of men!  To keep it or to send it back would make me equally miserable.  I shall keep it till you are married, and then give it to your wife.’  This affair of the ring had made him more intent than ever.  After that he heard that Isabel Boncassen would also be at Killancodlem, having been induced to join Mrs Montacute Jones’s swarm of visitors.  Though he was dangerously devoid of experience, still he felt that this was unfortunate.  He intended to marry Mabel Grex.