Philistia

on uplands, overlooking the steep glen of a little boulder-encumbered stream, and commandi

ers of the red deer may often be seen etched in bold relief against the clear sky-line to the west, on sunny autumn evenings. But the castle itself and the surrounding grounds are not planned to harmonise with the rough moorland English scenery into whose midst they were unceremoniously pitchforked by the second earl. That distinguished man of taste, a light of the artistic world in his own day, had brought back from his Grand Tour his own ideal of a strictly classical domestic building, formed by impartially compounding a Palladian palace, a Doric temple, and a square redbrick English

s it runs into the pool, has been coerced into a long straight channel, bordered on either side by bedded turf, and planed off at measured intervals so as to produce a series of eminently regular and classical cascades. Even Lord Exmoor himself, who was a hunting man, without any pretence to that stupid rubbish about taste, did not care for the hopeless exterior of Dunbude Castle: he frankly admitted that the place was altogether too doosid ar

t showed her at once a girl of spirit; indeed, if she had not been born a Tregellis, it was quite clear that she would have been predestined to turn out a strong-minded woman. There was nothing particularly delicate in Lady Hilda's features; they were well-modelled, but neither regular nor cold, nor with that peculiar stamp of artificial breeding which is so often found in

adfully afraid you wouldn't care for our proposition. Dunbude's the dullest hole in England, and we wa

rnest answered, 'but the house

ve; you're Oxford, of course, aren't you? I thought so. Still, even Mr. Walsh was a little society, for I assure you, if it hadn't been for him, I should never have seen anybody, to talk to, from year's end to year's end. So when Mr. Walsh was going to leave us, I said to mamma, "Why not ask one of the Mr. Le Bretons?" I wanted to have somebody sensible here, and so I got her to let me write to your brother Ronald about the tutorship. Did he send you the letter? I hope you didn't think it was mine. Mamma dictated it, for I don't write such formal letters as that on my o

he fire and began to warm himself, while Hilda took down a cue and made stray shots in extraordinary angles at

see the fire again. Why, you're

person for Dunbude, you know, and about as much use to Lynmouth as anybody could be, which isn't saying much, of course, for he's a dreadful pickle. I insisted on putting in my letter that he was a dreadful pickle (that's a good stroke off the red; just enough side on), though mamma didn't want me to; because I thought you ought to know about it beforehand. But you remember

answered, half hesitating

, because you'll find nothi

. I don't thi

ut your head off, in the house, is really delightful. I love originality. Not that I've ever seen anybody original in all my life, for I haven't, but I'm sure it would be delightful if I did. One reads about original people in novels, you know, Dickens and that sort of thing; and I often think I should like to meet some of them (good stroke again; legs, legs, legs, if you please-no, it hasn't legs enough); but here, or for the matter of that, in town either, we never see anybody but the same eternal round of Algies, and Monties, and Berties, and Hughs-al

billiards? In a world where so many labouring people are toiling and slaving in poverty and misery on our behalf, don't you think we should be

s; or else we talk-the women especially-about how awfully bored we are. Lawn-tennis, you know, and dinners, and what a bad match Ethel Thingumbob has made. But you talk another kind of slang; I dare say it doesn't mean much; you know you're not working at anything very much more serious than we are; still it's a novelty. When we go to a coursing meeting, we're all on the hounds; but you're on the hare, and that's so delightfully original. I haven't the least doubt that if we were to talk about the Irish, you'd say you thought they ought to shoot their landlords. I remember you shocked mamma by

the dining-room, sir,' s

'I'll teach you how to make that cannon you missed just now. If you mean to

giving on his mind already that Dunbude was not exa

pil. Lynmouth had grown into a tall, handsome, manly-looking boy since Ernest last saw him; but he certainly looked exactly what Hilda had called him-a pickle. A few minutes' introductory conversat

dinner. 'I haven't had a moment myself to snatch a look at the "Times" yet this evening

r,' Lord Connemara ans

somebody else has l

that the Irish news was rather worse again.

ing towards Ernest. 'I'm afraid ther

'positive starvation, I believe

think any of the landlords are actually starving yet, though I've no doubt many of

among the poor people.' As he spoke he was aware that Lady Hilda's eyes were fixed keenly upon him, and that she was immensely delighte

on didn't much matter to a philosophic mind. 'Yes, to be sure; I've no doubt some of them are very badly off,

were 'mortgaged up to the eyelids' (a condition of affairs to which she always alluded as though it were rather a subject of pride and congratulation than otherwise) did not speak very highly for their provident ec

uite indignant the other day because my agent had to evict a man for three years' rent at Ballynamara, and the man unfortunately went and died a week later on the public roadside. We produced medical evidence to show that he had suffered for years from heart disease, and would hav

en who are unlucky enough to own property in Ireland have a lot of trouble about it nowadays. Upon my word, what

nd decorously religious. 'I really can't understand how people can believe such wicked

'Shaking the very foundations of society, I think it. All don

ndered when Lord Connemara had found time to turn his own attention from foxes

the Maid of Garunda this week, you know, and three others of the best horses in my stable, just to raise money for immediate necessities. Wanted to buy a most interesting missal, quite unique in its wa

r, doubtfully. 'Who was he? Neve

mano. Wonderful draughtsman in the nude, and fine colourist; took hints from Raphael and Michael Angelo.' So much he had picked up from Menotti and Cicolari, and, being a distinguished connoisseur, had made a mental note of the fa

question her any further upon the subject; in which case she thought it would probably be t

very existence wasn't suspected till Cicolari-wonderfully smart fellow, Cicolari-unearthed it the other day from a descendant of the Malatestas, in a little village in the Campagna. He offered it to me, quite as an act of friendship, for three thousand guineas; indeed, he begged me not to let Menotti know how cheap he was selling it, for fear he might interfere and ask a higher price for it. Well, I naturally couldn't let such a chance slip me-for the credit of the family, it ought to be in the collection-and the consequence was, though I was awfully sorry to part with her, I was absolutely

sked Lady Hilda boldly from across the table. 'I remember you told

'My dear Hilda,' she said, 'I'm sure you must have misunderstood Mr. Le Breto

Hilda has put her own interpretation upon my casual words. I have

ined to show fight for her sole gratification, and so she proceeded to her alternative amusement of getting Lord Connemara to display the full force of his own inanity. This was an easy and unending source of innocent enjoyment to Lady

ell have tried to din the necessary three plays of Euripides into the nearest lamp-post. Nobody encouraged him to learn in any way, indeed Lord Exmoor remembered that he himself had scraped through somehow at Christ Church, with the aid of a private tutor and the magic of his title, and he hadn't the least doubt that Lynmouth would scrape through in his turn in like manner. And so, though most young men would have found the Dunbude tutorship the very acme of their wishes-plenty of amusements and nothing to do for them-Ernest Le Breton found it to the last degree irksome and unsatisfactory. Not that he had ever to complain of any unkindliness on the part of the Exmoor family; they were really in their own way very kind-hearted, friendly sort of people-that is to say, towards all members of their own circle; and as they considered Ernest one of themselves, in virtue of their acquaintance with his mother, they really

al friend and confidante, the lady's-maid, 'that Hilda makes a doocid s

her own place too well to demean herself with such as your lordship's tutor. If I

ing tablets of her memory, and did not fail gently to insinuate her views upon the question