rounds from a large paddock, in which three
or four hunters grazed in indolent enjoyment. It was one of those
cottages which bespeak the ease and luxury not often found in more
ostentatious mansions--an abode which, at sixteen, the visitor
contemplates with vague notions of poetry and love--which, at forty, he
might think dull and d---d expensive-which, at sixty, he would pronounce
to be damp in winter, and full of earwigs in the summer. Master Philip
was leaning on his gun; Master Sidney was chasing a peacock butterfly;
Arthur was silently gazing on the shining lake and the still foliage
that drooped over its surface. In the countenance of this young man
there was something that excited a certain interest. He was less
handsome than Philip, but the expression of his face was more
prepossessing. There was something of pride in the forehead; but of good
nature, not unmixed with irresolution and weakness, in the curves of the
mouth. He was more delicate of frame than Philip; and the colour of his
complexion was not that of a robust constitution. His movements were
graceful and self-possessed, and he had his father's sweetness of voice.
"This is really beautiful!--I envy you, cousin Philip."

"Has not your father got a country-house?"

"No: we live either in London or at some hot, crowded watering-place."

"Yes; this is very nice during the shooting and hunting season. But my
old nurse says we shall have a much finer place now. I liked this very
well till I saw Lord Belville's place. But it is very unpleasant not to
have the finest house in the county: aut Caesar aut nullus--that's my
motto. Ah! do you see that swallow? I'll bet you a guinea I hit it."
"No, poor thing! don't hurt it." But ere the remonstrance was uttered,
the bird lay quivering on the ground. "It is just September, and one
must keep one's hand in," said Philip, as he reloaded his gun.

To Arthur this action seemed a wanton cruelty; it was rather the wanton
recklessness which belongs to a wild boy accustomed to gratify the
impulse of the moment--the recklessness which is not cruelty in the boy,
but which prosperity may pamper into cruelty in the man. And scarce
had he reloaded his gun before the neigh of a young colt came from the
neighbouring paddock, and Philip bounded to the fence. "He calls me,
poor fellow; you shall see him feed from my hand. Run in for a piece
of bread--a large piece, Sidney." The boy and the animal seemed to
understand each other.