ot intended
for sport. It was a fine castellated mansion, with beautiful though
narrow grounds, standing in the valley of the Archay River, with a
mountain behind and the river in front. Between the gates and the
river there was a public road on which a stage-coach ran, with
loud-blown horns and the noise of many tourists. A mile beyond the
Castle was the famous Killancodlem hotel which made up a hundred
and twenty beds, and at which half as many more guests would sleep
on occasions under the tables. And there was the Killancodlem
post-office halfway between the two. At Crummie-Toddie they had to
send nine miles for their letters and newspapers. At Killancodlem
there was lawn-tennis and a billiard-room and dancing every night.
The costumes of the ladies were lovely, and those of the gentlemen,
who were wonderful in knickerbockers, picturesque hats and variegated
stockings, hardly less so. And then there were carriages and
saddle-horses, and paths had been made hither and thither through
the rocks and hills for the sake of the scenery. Scenery! To hear Mr.
Dobbes utter the single word was as good as a play. Was it for such
cockney purposes as those that Scotland had been created, fit mother
for grouse and deer?

Silverbridge arrived just before lunch, and was soon made to
understand that it was impossible that he should go back that day.
Mrs. Jones was very great on that occasion. "You are afraid of
Reginald Dobbes," she said severely.

"I think I am rather."

"Of course you are. How came it to pass that you of all men should
submit yourself to such a tyrant?"

"Good shooting, you know," said Silverbridge.

"But you dare not call an hour your own--or your soul. Mr. Dobbes and
I are sworn enemies. We both like Scotland, and unfortunately we have
fallen into the same neighbourhood. He looks upon me as the genius of
sloth. I regard him as the incarnation of tyranny. He once said there
should be no women in Scotland,--just an old one here and there, who
would know how to cook grouse. I offered to go and cook his grouse!

"Any friend of mine," continued Mrs. Jones, "who comes down to
Crummie-Toddie without staying a day or two with me,--will never be
my friend any more. I do not hesitate to tell you, Lord Silverbridge,
that I call for your surrender, in order that I may show my power
over Reginald Dobbes. Are you a Dobbite?"

"Not thorough-going," said Silverbridge.

"Then be a Montacute Jones-ite; or a Boncassenit