uld be savage and
yet good-humoured; severe and yet forbearing; truculent and pleasant
in the same moment. He should exercise unflinching authority, but
should do so with the consciousness that he can support it only by
his own popularity. His speech should be short, incisive, always to
the point, but never founded on argument. His rules are based on no
reason, and will never bear discussion. He must be the most candid
of men, also the most close;--and yet never a hypocrite. He must
condescend to no explanation, and yet must impress men with an
assurance that his decisions will certainly be right. He must rule
all as though no man's special welfare were of any account, and yet
must administer all so as to offend none. Friends he must have, but
not favourites. He must be self-sacrificing, diligent, eager, and
watchful. He must be strong in health, strong in heart, strong in
purpose, and strong in purse. He must be economical and yet lavish;
generous as the wind and yet obdurate as the frost. He should be
assured that of all human pursuits hunting is the best, and that of
all living things a fox is the most valuable. He must so train his
heart as to feel for the fox a mingled tenderness and cruelty which
is inexplicable to ordinary men and women. His desire to preserve the
brute and then to kill him should be equally intense and passionate.
And he should do it all in accordance with a code of unwritten laws,
which cannot be learnt without profound study. It may not perhaps be
truly asserted that Lord Chiltern answered this description in every
detail; but he combined so many of the qualities required that his
wife showed her discernment when she declared that he seemed to have
been made to be a Master of Hounds.

Early in that November he was riding home with Miss Palliser by his
side, while the huntsmen and whips were trotting on with the hounds
before him. "You call that a good run, don't you?"

"No; I don't."

"What was the matter with it? I declare it seems to me that something
is always wrong. Men like hunting better than anything else, and yet
I never find any man contented."

"In the first place we didn't kill."

"You know you're short of foxes at Gartlow," said Miss Palliser, who,
as is the manner with all hunting ladies, liked to show that she
understood the affairs of the hunt.

"If I knew there were but one fox in a county, and I got upon that
one fox, I would like to kill that one fox,--barring a vixen