but which had made itself known to all who knew
him well. The houses of the gentry around him were superior to his in
material comfort and general accommodation, but to none of them
belonged that thoroughly established look of old county position which
belonged to Carbury. Bundlesham, where the Primeros lived, was the
finest house in that part of the county, but it looked as if it had
been built within the last twenty years. It was surrounded by new
shrubs and new lawns, by new walls and new out-houses, and savoured of
trade;--so at least thought Roger Carbury, though he never said the
words. Caversham was a very large mansion, built in the early part of
George III's reign, when men did care that things about them should be
comfortable, but did not care that they should be picturesque. There
was nothing at all to recommend Caversham but its size. Eardly Park,
the seat of the Hepworths, had, as a park, some pretensions. Carbury
possessed nothing that could be called a park, the enclosures beyond
the gardens being merely so many home paddocks. But the house of
Eardly was ugly and bad. The Bishop's palace was an excellent
gentleman's residence, but then that too was comparatively modern, and
had no peculiar features of its own. Now Carbury Manor House was
peculiar, and in the eyes of its owner was pre-eminently beautiful.

It often troubled him to think what would come of the place when he
was gone. He was at present forty years old, and was perhaps as
healthy a man as you could find in the whole county. Those around who
had known him as he grew into manhood among them, especially the
farmers of the neighbourhood, still regarded him as a young man. They
spoke of him at the county fairs as the young squire. When in his
happiest moods he could be almost a boy, and he still had something of
old-fashioned boyish reverence for his elders. But of late there had
grown up a great care within his breast,--a care which does not often,
perhaps in these days bear so heavily on men's hearts as it used to
do. He had asked his cousin to marry him,--having assured himself with
certainty that he did love her better than any other woman,--and she had
declined. She had refused him more than once, and he believed her
implicitly when she told him that she could not love him. He had a way
of believing people, especially when such belief was opposed to his
own interests, and had none of that self-confidence which makes a man
think that if opport