nts
of this one room alone, thought he, "represent no moderate fortune."

When his eye strayed to the tall windows, and rested on the wooded acres
which owned in mad Carew a nominal master, the beauty of dale and upland
touched him not at all. "I wonder now," sighed he, "how much of this is
dipped?" It was a good sign, he thought, that in one room he found a
cabinet containing no less than fifty antique cameos; for, if the
pressure of pecuniary difficulty had really begun to be severe, the
Squire would surely have parted with what must have been in his view
useless lumber, and was so easily convertible into cash. The Library
offered a strange spectacle: chairs thrown down, and broken glasses,
bore witness to the wildness of last night's revel; the splendid carpet
was strewn with the ends and ashes of cigars, and with packs of cards;
and on the table, scratched in all directions by the sharp spurs of
fighting-cocks, still lay the dice and caster. The atmosphere was so
heavy with the fumes of wine and smoke that Yorke was glad to escape
from it, through a half-opened window, into the morning air.

How bright and fresh it was! How much there was of bracing enjoyment, of
wholesome gayety, in the mere breath of it; how much of invigorating
delight in the mere sight of the glittering turf, the beaded trees, to
which the hoar-frost had lent its jewels! But such cheap luxuries are
not only unknown to those who are sleeping off their debauch of the past
night during the brightest hours of the day; they are also lost upon
those who rise early in the morning, to follow the strong drink of greed
and envious expectation. Richard Yorke enjoyed them not, save that he
felt his lungs play more freely. A couple of gardeners were at work upon
the lawn, of one of whom he asked the way to the stables, the report of
the completeness and perfection of which had often reached him. The
house and its furniture--nay, the house and its inmates--were of less
consequence in the Squire's eyes than the arrangements of his
loose-boxes. The old dynasty of Houyhnhnms was re-established at
Crompton; the Horse bare sway, or was at least held in higher account
than the Human. The Horse, the Hound, the Pheasant, the Bag-fox, and,
fifthly, Man, were there the gradations of rank; and a compound
being--half man, half brute--was, by a not unparalleled freak of
fortune, the master of all. Carew had never fed his mares with human
flesh, but there was a legend tha