He returned by way of the stables, which were situated to the west of the house. They had been built to accommodate many more horses than now stood in the stalls, and were ranged round several cobbled yards. Only two of these seemed to be in use; in the others weeds were pushing up between the cobbles, and rows of shut doors, the paint on them blistered and cracked with age, lent a melancholy air of decay to the scene.

The Major found his groom, a middle-aged Yorkshireman of stocky build and dour countenance, severely repelling the mischievous advances of a plump damsel in a print frock and a mob cap. To judge by the grin on the face of one of the stableboys, who had paused, bucket in hand, to listen to her sallies, she was full of liveliness and wit; but when she saw Hugo coming across the yard she fell into a twitter of embarrassment, dropped a hasty curtsy, and ran away.

“Set up a flirt already, have you?” remarked Hugo. “I’m surprised at you, John Joseph, at your time of life!”

“That giglet!” snorted his servitor. “I’ bahn to take t’gray to the stithy, Mester Hugo: he’s got a shoe loose, like I told you.”

“How’s Rufus?”

“Champion!”

“Good! I’ll take a look at him. All well with you, John Joseph?”

“I’m suited,” responded John Joseph stolidly. He cast an upward sidelong glance at his master’s face, and added in a rougher tone: “Tha knows we mun be suited, Mester Hugo, choose how!”

The blue eyes gave nothing away, but there was a hint of mulishness about the Major’s firm lips. “Maybe! We’ll see!”

“Tha’s quality-make, like t’gaffer used to say,” urged John Joseph. “Nay then, sir—! If tha’s bahn to be a lord, think on—”

“I am thinking,” Hugo answered. He smiled. “Hold thy gab, John Joseph!”

“Mester Hugo! If t’gaffer could hear thee—!”

“I’d get a bang on the lug. But—”

“Sneck up!” commanded his henchman. “Here comes his lordship, and Mester Richmond! I mun fettle t’tits.”

With these words he withdrew into the stable, just as Lord Darracott and Richmond, who had been out at exercise, dismounted.

“Ha! Glad to see you’re up and about!” said his lordship. “I’ve no patience with young fellows who lie abed till all hours. Another morning you may come out with me: no use suggesting it to you last night: you’ll need to rest your horses. I’ll take a look at ’em,”

“Ay, sir, do! They’re neither of them the equal of this fellow,” said Hugo, patting the neck of Richmond’s colt, “but the bay’s a prime fencer, and strong in work. He has need to be!”

“H’m! Pity you’re so big!” commented his lordship. “What do you ride? Seventeen stone?”

“All of that,” admitted Hugo. “Eh, lad, you’ve got a proper high-bred ’un here!”

“Do you like him?” Richmond asked eagerly. “He’s young—pretty green still, but a perfect mover! I broke him myself.”

Lord Darracott, leaving Richmond to show off his treasure, went into the stable, and was soon heard putting curt questions to John Joseph. It seemed doubtful that he would find John Joseph’s answers intelligible, but he apparently understood enough to satisfy him, for when he presently emerged he rather surprisingly told Hugo that he had a good man there, who knew his work. He bestowed moderate praise on Rufus, the big bay, but dismissed the Andalusian with the loose shoe as a clumsy-looking brute, high in flesh. Richmond having gone off to confer with his groom, his lordship commanded Hugo to accompany him back to the house. “I’ve a good deal to say to you,” he informed him. “I’ll see you in the library after breakfast.”

Few members of his family would have sat down to breakfast with much appetite after such a pronouncement as this, but although a slightly wary expression came into Hugo’s eyes his appetite remained unimpaired, and he was soon consuming an extremely hearty meal. The fact that his cousin Anthea had chosen to seat herself on the opposite side of the table troubled him not at all. Glancing dispassionately at her, he was able to verify his first impression that she was a pretty girl, with remarkably fine eyes, and a good deal of countenance. It seemed a pity that she should be so cold and inanimate when a little vivacity would have done so much to improve her.

Neither Vincent nor Claud was an early riser, and each incurred censure for walking into the breakfast parlour when the meal was nearly over. Vincent, never in his sunniest mood before breakfast, furiously resented the scold he received, but betrayed this only by his thinned lips and a certain glitter in his eyes. Claud, on the other hand, was unwise enough to excuse himself. Owing to the stupidity of his man, the carelessness of the laundress, and the inexplicable whims of Fate, which decreed that although one might sometimes achieve a desired result at the first attempt, at others success would elude one until one was exhausted, it had taken him three quarters of an hour to tie his neckcloth. The style he had chosen was the Mailcoach, and as it was as bulky as it was wide, he bore all the appearance of having bound a compress round a sore throat, as his brother took care to inform him.

“Jack-at-warts!” said his lordship bitterly.

Everyone waited for him to develop this theme, but he said no more, merely staring fixedly at Claud under such lowering brows that that unfortunate exquisite became so much discomposed that he took an unwary gulp of tea and scalded his mouth,

“I have it!” suddenly announced his lordship, grimly triumphant. “I’ll set you to work!”

“Eh?” ejaculated Claud, alarmed.

“You are a Bartholomew baby, a park-saunterer, a good-for-nothing Jack Straw!” said his fond grandfather.

“Well, I shouldn’t put it like that myself, sir,” said Claud, “but I daresay you’re right. Well, what I mean is, no use setting me to work: I couldn’t!”

“A smock-faced wag-feather!” pursued my lord inexorably. “Your only talent is for alamodality!”

“Well, there you are, sir!” Claud pointed out.

“A certain sort of something!” mocked Vincent.

“That’s what I’ll turn to good account!” said his lordship. “You can teach Hugh how to pass himself off with credit! Give him a new touch! Rid him of that damned brogue! You don’t know much, but you’ve moved in the first circles all your life, and you do know the established mode!”

“Father! Really—!” Matthew exclaimed.

“Cousin Hugo doesn’t need any touch that Claud could give him!” declared Richmond, scarlet-faced.

Hugo, who had continued throughout this embarrassing dialogue to eat his way through several slices of cold beef, looked up from his plate to smile amiably, and to say, with a marked Yorkshire drawl: “Nay, I’d be fain to learn how to support the character of a gentleman. I’ve a fancy to be up to the knocker, and I’ll be well-suited to be put in the way of it. And I should think,” he added handsomely, “that our Claud could teach me better nor most.”

“Exactly so!” said Vincent. “An assinego may tutor thee!”

“To support the character of a gentleman!” exclaimed Anthea, unexpectedly entering the lists. “In this house, cousin, unless you will be content with my brother, you will search in vain for a model!”

“You keep your tongue, miss!” said his lordship, without any particular animosity.

“Anthea, pray—!” whispered Mrs. Darracott.

“Oh, have you changed your mind?” asked Vincent, levelling his quizzing-glass at Anthea. A provocative smile curled his lip; he said silkily: “Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus, my sweet life?”

Her eyes blazed, and Hugo, considerably surprised, intervened, saying in his deep, slow voice: “Nay then! Don’t fratch over me! I don’t know what I’m to carry, but I’m agreeable to be called an elephant: it won’t be for the first time! They call me Gog Darracott in the regiment, but when I was a lad it was more often that great lump! There’s no need for any fuss and clart on my account; I’ve a broad back.”

“It must at all events be acknowledged that you have an amiable temper,” said Matthew, pushing back his chair. “You will excuse me, Elvira, if you please! I must go up to see how her ladyship does. She passed an indifferent night, and has the headache this morning.”

Mrs. Darracott replied suitably, and Matthew left the room. He was shortly followed by Lord Darracott, who went away, commanding Hugo not to keep him waiting. Hugh, who had just received his third cup of tea from Mrs. Darracott, said that he would follow him when he had finished his breakfast, a reply which struck Claud as being so foolhardy that he was moved to utter an earnest warning. “Better go at once!” he said. “No sense in putting him in a bad skin, coz! Very likely to regret it!”

“Nay, what could he do to me?” said Hugo, dropping sugar into his cup.

“That you will discover,” said Vincent dryly. “You will also discover the pains and penalties that attach to the position of heir.”

“Happen I’ve discovered a few already,” drawled Hugo.

Claud coughed delicately. “Rather fancy you mean perhaps, coz!”

“Ay, so I do!” agreed Hugo. “I’m much obliged to you.”

“The spectacle of Claud entering upon his new duties, though not unamusing, is not one which I can support at this hour of the day,” said Vincent. “Do you mind postponing any further tuition until I have withdrawn from the room?”

“Ah!” retorted Claud, with an odious smirk. “You’re piqued because m’grandfather didn’t ask you to hint Hugh into the proper mode!”

This quite failed to ruffle Vincent. “He did,” he answered. “I was persuaded, however, that it would prove to be a task beyond my poor power, and declined the office.” He saw that, while his target remained unmoved, Richmond was looking at him with a troubled frown between his eyes. He smiled slightly at the boy, and said, as he rose from the table: “What I am going to do is to teach Richmond how to point his leaders.”