o
settle into shape at the Priory. The three young men were still
living together at the great house, and the tenants on the estate had
been taught to recognise the fact that Ralph, who had ever been the
heir, was in truth the owner. Among the labourers and poorer classes
there was no doubt much regret, and that regret was expressed. The
tenants, though they all liked the Squire's son, were not upon the
whole ill-pleased. It was in proper conformity with English habits
and English feelings that the real heir should reign. Among the
gentry the young Squire was made as welcome as the circumstances of
the heir would admit. According to their way of thinking, personally
popular as was the other man, it was clearly better that a legitimate
descendant of the old family should be installed at Newton Priory.
The old Squire's son rode well to hounds, and was loved by all; but
nothing that all the world could do on his behalf would make him
Newton of Newton. If only he would remain in the neighbourhood and
take some place suited to his income, every house would be open
to him. He would be received with no diminution of attachment or
respect. Overtures of this nature were made to him. This house could
be had for him, and that farm could be made comfortable. He might
live among them as a general favourite; but he could not under any
circumstances have been,--Newton of Newton. Nothing, however, was
clearer to himself than this;--that as he could not remain in the
county as the master of Newton Priory, he would not remain in the
county at all.

As things settled down and took shape he began to feel that even
in his present condition he might possibly make himself acceptable
to such a girl as Mary Bonner. In respect of fortune there could
be no reason whatever why he should not offer her his hand. He
was in truth a rich man, whereas she had nothing, By birth he was
nobody,--absolutely nobody; but then also would he have been nobody
had all the lands of Newton belonged to him. When he had written
that second letter, waiving all claim to Mary's hand because of
the inferiority of his position, he was suffering from a morbid
view which he had taken of his own affairs. He was telling himself
then,--so assuring himself, though he did not in truth believe
the assurance,--that he had lost not only the estate, but also
his father's private fortune. At that moment he had been unstrung,
demoralised, and unmanned,--so weak that a feather would