52

I'

CHAPTER V.

His sports were faire, his ioyance innocent,
Sweet without sowre, and honny without gall:
And he himselfe seem'd made for merriment,
Merrily basking both in bowre and hall.

SPENSER.

F you are really going round the turnip-field, Papa,' said Susan, 'I shall take the liberty of riding home alone. Leonard will feel very ill-used if he arrives to an empty house; and I know that Mamma will not get back from Kilworth before six.'

Very well, my dear,' said Mr. Mordaunt, and Susan drew up her reins and patted the glossy coat of her bright bay, congratulating him and herself on this release from the protracted conference between Mr. Mordaunt and his bailiff.

Cantering down the grass ride which led from the home-farm to the house, Susan saw her cousin in the act of alighting from the gig which had conveyed him from the station. It was the eighth of August, and Leonard's practice was not so extensive as to oblige him to linger in town for a day after the end of term.

'Well, Leonard,' said Susan, her bright face expressing all the satisfaction which she felt; 'how

figure crossing the lawn, at a safe distance from the animated group gathered round the pony.

'There is no use waiting for Papa to decide,' said Minny; for there can be no fault in a creature with a mouse-coloured coat, and such a wise, gentle face.' And Minny was such a fearless rider, that her mother and sisters considered her a good judge of horses.

Susan, laughing and colouring, and I don't care either. I spoke of things, not of persons; and I was thinking of your school days, when cigars were contraband, and you used to burden my conscience by binding me over to secrecy. Do you know, Leonard, that we are all growing very old ?'

'We are indeed; but you wear better than I do, thanks to your immunity from law books and legal fees. Those extortionate old Benchers consume my whole income, and so I shall tell my uncle; but of course I shall be visited with the usual lecture on extravagance, if I ask for some advance to pay my journey to Scotland.'

You might stay here,' said Susan doubtfully; and the alternative was received with a long, impatient whistle, which was not complimentary.

Very true-en pénitence for three months, instead of shooting over one of the finest moors in Scotland.'

Although Leonard chose to confide his difficulties to his cousin, it was evident that he did not encourage any attempt at their solution, so Susan silently played with her riding-whip, her broad-leafed hat shading. a perplexed and unhappy face.

'It is impossible,' continued Leonard, justifying himself with the greater vehemence because no accuser was present; it is impossible for any man in London society to live more economically than I do. If I do get into difficulties, it is my uncle's own fault for putting a man with a miserable pittance of £300 a year into such a profession.'

I thought that it had been your own choice,' said Susan.

'And how should you know anything about it, when you were still a child in the schoolroom?' rejoined Leonard sharply. 'It was a choice of evils. I must either have turned parson, or have gone to the colonies; and England is the only place fit for a gentleman to live in. I don't doubt that I should make a name for myself yet, if I were not hampered at every turn by the want of a few pounds; and I see no resource but to take to fortune-hunting, and marry an heiress.'

'Oh, Leonard, anything but that!' exclaimed Susan, with an energy which amused her cousin.

'Anything but that? Do you imply that highway robbery or forgery would be more honourable?'

'Not more degrading,' said Susan decidedly.

'Well, I have not yet sunk so low, though perhaps the evil day is only deferred. I cannot give up my grouse-shooting; but I intend to put my expenses on a new footing when I return to town. I may even comply with Lily's suggestion of wearing dark gloves, for Piver's last bill was almost as heavy as the legal fees.'

'I wish that you would talk over your difficulties with Mamma,' said Susan.

'No, thank you. Aunt Helen has excellent qualities as a confidante, and always contrives to put me in a good humour with myself and the world at large. But I invariably find that my confidence is betrayed to Uncle John, and that he obtains an exaggerated sense of my misdemeanours

from her anxiety to palliate them. Now, I know that you are quite safe.'

'Yes,' said Susan, hardly knowing whether to be gratified or distressed by this assurance; but I feel so helpless and uncomfortable from not knowing how to advise.'

That need not disturb you,' rejoined Leonard. 'I have had advice enough in my day, without being much the wiser for it, and I am quite content with a little sympathy. And after all, it is useless to make oneself miserable, for I dare say that it will all come right in the end. Give me some family history. Is the house empty?' 'Of visitors, yes; there are only the lawful inhabitants. But I grieve to say we have a dinner party to-night. Mamma thinks so highly of your social qualities that she always seizes the opportunity to give a series of entertainments, and so we shall not enjoy your visit in peace.'

That is cruel,' said Leonard. London society does not make me more tolerant of the ponderous dignity of a country neighbourhood; however, I shall endeavour to sustain my reputation. Who is coming?'

'The Ansons and Wildmans, the Vicar and Mr. Merton, and Uncle Ralph of course.'

'It might have been worse. much of the last worthy?'

Have you seen

'Of Uncle Ralph ?' returned Susan, perhaps wilfully misunderstanding the question, for Leonard did not allude to Mr. Cornwall. He is as much about the house as ever, or perhaps rather more.' 'Notwithstanding the niece at home. And what you make of her ?'

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