and what a man means when he says he has not got time for
hunting."

"Lucius intends to be a farmer," said his mother.

"So do I," said Peregrine. "By Jove, I should think so. If I had two
hundred acres of land in my own hand I should not want anything else
in the world, and would never ask any one for a shilling."

"If that be so, I might make the best bargain at once that ever a man
made," said the baronet. "If I might take you at your word, Master
Perry--."

"Pray don't talk of it, sir," said Mrs. Orme.

"You may be quite sure of this, my dear--that I shall not do more
than talk of it." Then Sir Peregrine asked Lady Mason if she would
take any more wine; after which the ladies withdrew, and the lecture
commenced.

But we will in the first place accompany the ladies into the
drawing-room for a few minutes. It was hinted in one of the first
chapters of this story that Lady Mason might have become more
intimate than she had done with Mrs. Orme, had she so pleased it; and
by this it will of course be presumed that she had not so pleased.
All this is perfectly true. Mrs. Orme had now been living at The
Cleeve the greater portion of her life, and had never while there
made one really well-loved friend. She had a sister of her own, and
dear old friends of her childhood, who lived far away from her in
the northern counties. Occasionally she did see them, and was then
very happy; but this was not frequent with her. Her sister, who was
married to a peer, might stay at The Cleeve for a fortnight, perhaps
once in the year; but Mrs. Orme herself seldom left her own home. She
thought, and certainly not without cause, that Sir Peregrine was not
happy in her absence, and therefore she never left him. Then, living
there so much alone, was it not natural that her heart should desire
a friend?

But Lady Mason had been living much more alone. She had no sister to
come to her, even though it were but once a year. She had no intimate
female friend, none to whom she could really speak with the full
freedom of friendship, and it would have been delightful to have
bound to her by ties of love so sweet a creature as Mrs. Orme, a
widow like herself,--and like herself a widow with one only son. But
she, warily picking her steps through life, had learned the necessity
of being cautious in all things. The countenance of Sir Peregrine had
been invaluable to her, and might it not be possible that she should
lose that countenance? A word o