Ravenshoe. By Henry Kingsley.

102 RAVENSHOE.
friend's son, and to say that, by Jove, he was proud of him. His
young friend's father had not been a brilliant scholar, as his young
friend was; but he had been one of the first whist-players in
England. His young friend had turned his attention to scholastic
honors, in preference to whist, which might or might not be a
mistake; though he believed he was committing no breach of
trust in saying that the position had been thrust on his young
friend from pecuniary motives. Property had an infernal trick
of deteriorating. His own property had not happened to deteriorate (none knew why, for he had given it every chance); but the
property of his young friend's father having deteriorated in a confounded rapid sort of way, he must say that it was exceedingly
creditable in his young friend to have made such a decided step
towards bringing matters right again as he had."
" My father's son, my lord, thanks you for your kind remembrance of his father. I have always desired to see and meet my
father's old friends, of whom you, Mr. Ravenshoe, were among
the kindest. We have given up the greater vices lately, my
lord, but we do our best among the smaller ones."
There was a quiet supper, at which Lord Saltire consented to
stay, provided no one used the expression, " cheese," in which
case he said he should have to retire. There was n't cheese on
the table, but there was more than cheese; there was scolloped
cockles, and Lord Saltire ate -some. He said at the time that
they would have the same effect on him as swallowing the fireshovel. But, to relieve your mind at once, I may tell you that
they did n't do him any harm at all, and he was as well as ever
next morning.
Father Tiernay said grace; and when the meal was half over,
in came Father Mackworth. Densil said, " Father Mackworth,
Mr. Marston"; and Marston said, after a moment's glance at
him, " How do you do, sir?"
Possibly a more courteous form of speaking to a new acquaintance might have been used. But Marston had his opinions about
Father Mackworth, and had no objection that the holy father
should know them.
"We got, Mary," said Cuthbert suddenly, "more cocks than
pheasants to-day. Charles killed five couple, and I four. I was
very vexed at being beaten by Charles, because I am so much
the better shot."
Charles looked up, and met his eyes, - a look he never forgot.
Accompanying the apparent petulance of the remark was a look
of love and pity and sorrow. It pleased him above everything,
during the events which were to come, to recall that look, and
say, " Well, he liked me once."
That evening, Charles and Marston retired to Charles's study