the holidays of that one year that the two Ralphs
had been together. The "Dear Sir" will probably be understood by the
discerning reader. The Squire's son had never allowed himself to call
even Gregory his cousin. Ralph the heir in writing back had addressed
him as "Dear Ralph." The Squire's son thought that that was very
well, but chose that any such term of familiarity should come first
from him who was in truth a Newton. He felt his condition, though he
was accustomed to make so light of it to his father.

The two young men shook hands together cordially, and were soon
at work upon their eggs and kidneys. They immediately began about
Gregory and the parsonage and the church, and the big house. The
heir to the property, though he had not been at Newton for fourteen
years, remembered well its slopes, and lawns, and knolls, and little
valleys. He asked after this tree and that, of this old man and that
old woman, of the game, and the river fishery, and the fox coverts,
and the otters of which three or four were reputed to be left when
he was there. Otters it seems were gone, but the foxes were there in
plenty. "My father would be half mad if they drew the place blank,"
said the Squire's son.

"Does my uncle hunt much?"

"Every Monday and Saturday, and very often on the Wednesday."

"And you?"

"I call myself a three-day man, but I often make a fourth. Garth must
be very far off if he don't see me. I don't do much with any other
pack."

"Does my uncle ride?"

"Yes; he goes pretty well;--he says he don't. If he gets well away I
think he rides as hard as ever he did. He don't like a stern chace."

"No more do I," said Ralph the heir. "But I'm often driven to make
it. What can a fellow do? An old chap turns round and goes home, and
doesn't feel ashamed of himself; but we can't do that. That's the
time when one ruins his horses." Then he told all about the Moonbeam
and the B. & B., and his own stud. The morning was half gone, and not
a word had been said about business.

The Squire's son felt that it was so, and rushed at the subject all
in a hurry. "I told you what I have come up to town about."

"Oh, yes; I understand."

"I suppose I may speak plainly," said the Squire's son.

"Why not?" said Ralph the heir.

"Well; I don't know. Of course it's best. You wrote to Carey, you
know."

"Yes; I wrote the very moment I had made up my mind."

"You had made up your mind, then?"

Ralph had certainly made up h