Reginald Morton entertained serious thoughts of cleansing himself from the reproach which Larry cast upon him when describing his character to his mother. "I think I shall take to hunting," he said to Mary.

"But you\'ll tumble off, dear."

"No doubt I shall, and I must try to begin in soft places. I don\'t see why I shouldn\'t do it gradually in a small way. I shouldn\'t ever become a Nimrod, like Lord Rufford or your particular friend Mr. Twentyman."

"He is my particular friend."

"So I perceive. I couldn\'t shine as he shines, but I might gradually learn to ride after him at a respectful distance. A man at Rome ought to do as the Romans do."

"Why wasn\'t Hoppet Hall Rome as much as Bragton?"

"Well;—it wasn\'t. While fortune enabled me to be happy at Hoppet Hall—"

"That is unkind, Reg."

"While fortune oppressed me with celibate misery at Hoppet Hall, nobody hated me for not hunting;—and as I could not very well afford it, I was not considered to be entering a protest against the amusement. As it is now I find that unless I consent to risk my neck at any rate five or six times every winter, I shall be regarded in that light."

"I wouldn\'t be frightened into doing anything I didn\'t like," said Mary.

"How do you know that I shan\'t like it? The truth is I have had a letter this morning from a benevolent philosopher which has almost settled the question for me. He wants me to join a society for the suppression of British sports as being barbarous and antipathetic to the intellectual pursuits of an educated man. I would immediately shoot, fish, hunt and go out ratting, if I could hope for the least success. I know I should never shoot anything but the dog and the gamekeepers, and that I should catch every weed in the river; but I think that in the process of seasons I might jump over a hedge."

"Kate will show you the way to do that."

"With Kate and Mr. Twentyman to help me, and a judicious system of liberal tips to Tony Tuppett, I could make my way about on a quiet old nag, and live respected by my neighbours. The fact is I hate with my whole heart the trash of the philanimalist."

"What is a—a—I didn\'t quite catch the thing you hate?"

"The thing is a small knot of self-anxious people who think that they possess among them all the bowels of the world."

"Possess all the what, Reginald?"

"I said bowels,—using an ordinary but very ill-expressed metaphor. The ladies and gentlemen to whom I allude, not looking very clearly into the systems of pains and pleasures in accordance with which we have to live, put their splay feet down now upon this ordinary operation and now upon that, and call upon the world to curse the cruelty of those who will not agree with them. A lady whose tippet is made from the skins of twenty animals who have been wired in the snow and then left to die of starvation—"

"Oh, Reginald!"

"That is the way of it. I am not now saying whether it is right or wrong. The lady with the tippet will justify the wires and the starvation because, as she will say, she uses the fur. An honest blanket would keep her just as warm. But the fox who suffers perhaps ten minutes of agony should he not succeed as he usually does in getting away,—is hunted only for amusement! It is true that the one fox gives amusement for hours to perhaps some hundred;—but it is only for amusement. What riles me most is that these would-be philosophers do not or will not see that recreation is as necessary to the world as clothes or food, and the providing of the one is as legitimate a business as the purveying of the other."

"People must eat and wear clothes."

"And practically they must be amused. They ignore the great doctrine of \'tanti.\'"

"I never heard of it."

"You shall, dear, some day. It is the doctrine by which you should regulate everything you do and every word you utter. Now do you and Kate put on your hats and we\'ll walk to the bridge."

This preaching of a sermon took place after breakfast at Bragton on the morning of Saturday, and the last order had reference to a scheme they had on foot to see the meet at the old kennels. On the previous afternoon Reginald Morton had come into Dillsborough and had very quietly settled everything with the attorney. Having made up his mind to do the thing he was very quick in the doing of it. He hated the idea of secrecy in such an affair, and when Mrs. Masters asked him whether he had any objection to have the marriage talked about, expressed his willingness that she should employ the town crier to make it public if she thought it expedient. "Oh, Mr. Morton, how very funny you are," said the lady. "Quite in earnest, Mrs. Masters," he replied. Then he kissed the two girls who were to be his sisters, and finished the visit by carrying off the younger to spend a day or two with her sister at Bragton. "I know," he said, whispering to Mary as he left the front door, "that I ought not to go out hunting so soon after my poor cousin\'s death; but as he was a cousin once removed, I believe I may walk as far as the bridge without giving offence."

When they were there they saw all the arrivals just as they were seen on the same spot a few months earlier by a very different party. Mary and Kate stood on the bridge together, while he remained a little behind leaning on the stile. She, poor girl, had felt some shame in showing herself, knowing that some who were present would have heard of her engagement, and that others would be told of it as soon as she was seen. "Are you ashamed of what you are going to do?" he asked.

"Ashamed! I don\'t suppose that there is a girl in England so proud as I am at this minute."

"I don\'t know that there is anything to be proud of, but if you are not ashamed, why shouldn\'t you show yourself? Marriage is an honourable state!" She could only pinch his arm, and do as he bade her.

Glomax in his tandem, and Lord Rufford in his drag, were rather late. First there came one or two hunting men out of the town, Runciman, Dr. Nupper, and the hunting saddler. Then there arrived Henry Stubbings with a string of horses, mounted by little boys, ready for his customers, and full of wailing to his friend Runciman. Here was nearly the end of March and the money he had seen since Christmas was little more, as he declared, than what he could put into his eye and see none the worse. "Charge \'em ten per cent. interest," said Runciman. "Then they thinks they can carry on for another year," said Stubbings despondingly. While this was going on, Larry walked his favourite mare "Bicycle" on to the ground, dressed with the utmost care, but looking very moody, almost fierce, as though he did not wish anybody to speak to him. Tony Tuppett, who had known him since a boy, nodded at him affectionately, and said how glad he was to see him;—but even this was displeasing to Larry. He did not see the girls on the bridge, but took up his place near them. He was thinking so much of his own unhappiness and of what he believed others would say of him, that he saw almost nothing. There he sat on his mare, carrying out the purpose to which he had been led by Mary\'s message, but wishing with all his heart that he was back again, hidden within his own house at the other side of the wood.

Mary, as soon as she saw him, blushed up to her eyes, then turning round looked with wistful eyes into the face of the man she was engaged to marry, and with rapid step walked across the bridge up to the side of Larry\'s horse, and spoke to him with her sweet low voice. "Larry," she said. He turned round to her very quickly, showing how much he was startled. Then she put up her hand to him, and of course he took it. "Larry, I am so glad to see you. Did papa give you a message?"

"Yes, Miss Masters. He told me, I know it all."

"Say a kind word to me, Larry."

"I—I—I—You know............