satisfaction on these great objects as he pored over the reports and papers which had been heaped upon him since. he had accepted the mission.  But there was present to him always a feeling that the men at the Foreign Office had been glad to get any respectable diplomate to go to Patagonia, and that his brethren in the profession had marvelled at his acceptance of such a mission.  One never likes to be thanked over much for doing anything.  It creates a feeling that one has given more than was expedient.  He knew that he must now go to Patagonia, but he repented the alacrity with which he had acceded to the proposition.  Whether he did marry Arabella Trefoil or whether he did not, there was no adequate reason for such a banishment.  And yet he could not now escape it!

It was on a Monday morning that Larry Twentyman had found himself unable to go hunting.  On the Tuesday he gave his workmen about the farm such a routing as they had not received for many a month.  There had not been a dung heap or a cowshed which he had not visited, nor a fence about the place with which he had not found fault.  He was at it all day, trying thus to console himself, but in vain; and when his mother in the evening said some word of her misery in regard to the turkeys he had told her that as far as he was concerned Goarly might poison every fox in the county.  Then the poor woman knew that matters were going badly with her son.  On the Wednesday, when the hounds met within two miles of Chowton, he again stayed at home; but in the afternoon he rode into Dillsborough and contrived to see the attorney without being seen by any of the ladies of the family.  The interview did not seem to do him any good.  On the Thursday morning he walked across to Bragton and with a firm voice asked to see the Squire.  Morton who was deep in the boundary question put aside his papers and welcomed his neighbour.

Now it must be explained that when, in former years, his son’s debts had accumulated on old Mr. Reginald Morton, so that he had been obliged to part with some portion of his unentailed property, he had sold that which lay in the parish of St. John’s, Dillsborough.  The lands in Bragton and Mallingham he could not sell; but Chowton Farm which was in St. John’s had been bought by Larry Twentyman’s grandfather.  For a time there had been some bitterness of feeling; but the Twentymans had been well-to-do respectable people, most anxious to be good neighbours, and had gradually made themselves liked by the owner of Bragton.  The present Squire had of course known nothing of Chowton as a part of the Morton property, and had no more desire for it than for any of Lord Rufford’s acres which were contiguous to his own.  He shook hands cordially with his neighbour, as though this visit were the most natural thing in the world, and asked some questions about Goarly and the hunt.

“I believe that’ll all come square, Mr. Morton.  I’m not interesting myself much about it now.”  Larry was not dressed like himself.  He had on a dark brown coat, and dark pantaloons and a chimney-pot hat.  He was conspicuous generally for light-coloured close-fitting garments and for a billycock hat.  He was very unlike his usual self on the present occasion.