radesman might, by his own merits, become a peer of
Parliament. He would have liked to think that his son should share
all these tastes with him. Yes,--he liked Isabel Boncassen. But how
different was that liking from a desire that she should be bone of
his bone, and flesh of his flesh!

CHAPTER LXII

The Brake Country

"What does your father mean to do about Trumpington Wood?" That was
the first word from Lord Chiltern after he had shaken hands with his
guest.

"Isn't it all right yet?"

"All right? No! How can a wood like that be all right without a man
about the place who knows anything of the nature of a fox? In your
grandfather's time--"

"My great-uncle you mean."

"Well;--your great-uncle!--they used to trap the foxes there. There
was a fellow named Fothergill who used to come there for shooting.
Now it is worse than ever. Nobody shoots there because there is
nothing to shoot. There isn't a keeper. Every scamp is allowed to go
where he pleases, and of course there isn't a fox in the whole place.
My huntsman laughs at me when I ask him to draw it." As the indignant
Master of the Brake Hounds said this the very fire flashed from his
eyes.

"My dear," said Lady Chiltern expostulating, "Lord Silverbridge
hasn't been in the house above half an hour."

"What does that matter? When a thing has to be said it had better be
said at once."

Phineas Finn was staying at Harrington with his intimate friends
the Chilterns, as were also a certain Mr. and Mrs. Maule, both of
whom were addicted to hunting,--the lady, whose maiden name had
been Palliser, being a cousin to Lord Silverbridge. On that day
also a certain Mr. and Mrs. Spooner dined at Harrington. Mr. and
Mrs. Spooner were both very much given to hunting, as seemed to
be necessarily the case with everybody admitted to that house. Mr.
Spooner was a gentleman who might be on the wrong side of fifty, with
a red nose, very vigorous, and submissive in regard to all things
but port-wine. His wife was perhaps something more than half his age,
a stout, hard-riding, handsome woman. She had been the penniless
daughter of a retired officer,--but yet had managed to ride on
whatever animal any one would lend her. Then Mr. Spooner, who had for
many years been part and parcel of the Brake hunt, and who was much
in want of a wife, had, luckily for her, cast his eyes upon Miss
Leatherside. It was thought that upon the whole she made him a good
wife. She hunted fou