gether in forming plans by means of which he could
remain at Newton. The young Squire asked him to make the house his
home, at any rate for the hunting season. The parson offered half the
parsonage. His friend Morris, who was a bachelor, suggested a joint
home and joint stables between them. But it was all of no avail. Had
it not been for the success which had so nearly crowned the late
Squire's efforts during the last six months, it might have been that
his friends would have prevailed with him. But he had been too near
being the master to be able to live at Newton in any other capacity.
The tenants had been told that they were to be his tenants. The
servants had been told that they were to be his servants. During a
few short weeks, he had almost been master, so absolute had been the
determination of the old Squire to show to all around him that his
son, in spite of the blot upon the young man's birth, was now the
heir in all things, and possessed of every privilege which would
attach itself to an elder son. He himself while his father lived had
taken these things calmly, had shown no elation, had even striven to
moderate the vehemence of his father's efforts on his behalf;--but
not the less had he been conscious of the value of what was being
done for him. To be the promised future owner of the acres on which
he had lived, of the coverts through which he had ridden, of every
tree and bank which he had known from his boyhood, had been to him
a source of gratified pride not the less strong because he had
concealed it. The disappointment did hit him sorely. His dreams
had been of Parliament, of power in the county, of pride of place,
and popularity. He now found that they were to be no more than
dreams;--but with this additional sorrow, that all around him knew
that they had been dreamed. No;--he could not stay at Newton even
for the sake of living with friends who loved him so dearly. He said
little or nothing of this to any one. Not even to Gregory Newton or
to his friend Morris did he tell much of his feeling. He was not
proud of his dreamings, and it seemed to himself that his punishment
was just. Nor could he speak to either of them or to any man of his
past ambition, or of what hopes might remain to him in reference to
Mary Bonner. The young Squire had gone forth with the express purpose
of wooing her, had declared his purpose of doing so, and had returned
to Newton at any rate without any ready tale of triumph on h