unless
he would subscribe to aid it. Of course he subscribed. If he had been
told by his steward to subscribe to keep the cap on Mrs. Brock's head,
he would have done so. Twelve pounds a year his Lordship paid towards
the omnibus, and Scroope was not absolutely dissevered from the world.

The Earl himself was never seen out of his own domain, except when
he attended church. This he did twice every Sunday in the year, the
coachman driving him there in the morning and the head-groom in the
afternoon. Throughout the household it was known to be the Earl's
request to his servants that they would attend divine service at least
once every Sunday. None were taken into service but they who were or
who called themselves members of the Church Establishment. It is hardly
probable that many dissenters threw away the chance of such promotion on
any frivolous pretext of religion. Beyond this request, which, coming
from the mouth of Mrs. Bunce, became very imperative, the Earl hardly
ever interfered with his domestics. His own valet had attended him for
the last thirty years; but, beyond his valet and the butler, he hardly
knew the face of one of them. There was a gamekeeper at Scroope Manor,
with two under-gamekeepers; and yet, for, some years, no one, except the
gamekeepers, had ever shot over the lands. Some partridges and a few
pheasants were, however, sent into the house when Mrs. Bunce, moved to
wrath, would speak her mind on that subject.

The Earl of Scroope himself was a tall, thin man, something over seventy
at the time of which I will now begin to speak. His shoulders were much
bent, but otherwise he appeared to be younger than his age. His hair was
nearly white, but his eyes were still bright, and the handsome well-cut
features of his fine face were not reduced to shapelessness by any of
the ravages of time, as is so often the case with men who are infirm as
well as old. Were it not for the long and heavy eyebrows, which gave
something of severity to his face, and for that painful stoop in his
shoulders, he might still have been accounted a handsome man. In youth
he had been a very handsome man, and had shone forth in the world,
popular, beloved, respected, with all the good things the world could
give. The first blow upon him was the death of his wife. That hurt him
sorely, but it did not quite crush him. Then his only daughter died
also, just as she became a bride. High as the Lady Blanche Neville
had stood herself, she