d, when he acted himself, when he would somewhat proudly admit that
it was on principle. He never thought or spoke on an abstract question;
partly because his father had avoided them before him, partly because he
had been discouraged from doing so at school, but mainly because he
temperamentally took no interest in such unpractical things.

It was, therefore, a source of wonder to him that tenants of his own
should be ungrateful. He did his duty by them, as the Rector, in whose
keeping were their souls, would have been the first to affirm; the books
of his estate showed this, recording year by year an average gross profit
of some sixteen hundred pounds, and (deducting raw material incidental to
the upkeep of Worsted Skeynes) a net loss of three.

In less earthly matters, too, such as non-attendance at church, a
predisposition to poaching, or any inclination to moral laxity, he could
say with a clear conscience that the Rector was sure of his support. A
striking instance had occurred within the last month, when, discovering
that his under-keeper, an excellent man at his work, had got into a
scrape with the postman's wife, he had given the young fellow notice, and
cancelled the lease of his cottage.

He rose and went to the plan of the estate fastened to the wall, which he
unrolled by pulling a green silk cord, and stood there scrutinising it
carefully and placing his finger here and there. His spaniel rose too,
and settled himself unobtrusively on his master's foot. Mr. Pendyce
moved and trod on him. The spaniel yelped.

"D--n the dog! Oh, poor fellow, John!" said Mr. Pendyce. He went back
to his seat, but since he had identified the wrong spot he was obliged in
a minute to return again to the plan. The spaniel John, cherishing the
hope that he had been justly treated, approached in a half circle,
fluttering his tail; he had scarcely reached Mr. Pendyce's foot when the
door was opened, and the first footman brought in a letter on a silver
salver.

Mr. Pendyce took the note, read it, turned to his bureau, and said: "No
answer."

He sat staring at this document in the silent room, and over his face in
turn passed anger, alarm, distrust, bewilderment. He had not the power
of making very clear his thought, except by speaking aloud, and he
muttered to himself. The spaniel John, who still nurtured a belief that
he had sinned, came and lay down very close against his leg.

Mr. Pendyce, never having reflected