CHAPTER XI.

A FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.

THERE are a good many people who have no high opinion of letters, who yet believe in them when tacked to a man's name. V.C. (when they do not stand for Vicechairman, in which case they are not always creditable) are deservedly held in estimation; K.C.B. are valuable adjuncts; and even F.R.S. have their admirers. But in the country there are no letters which 'in this connection' (as cousin Jonathan phrases it) are so exceedingly esteemed as M.F.H. When a man has once been a Master of Foxhounds he can hope for no higher dignity; but is like a Lord Mayor who has passed the chair. To this eminence had

Mr. Reginald Pole, of Masham Manor, the estate contiguous to that of Talbot Tower, attained in years gone by, and the knowledge of it excited a reverence in Master Richard Talbot's mind, which I am afraid it would have refused to higher claims upon it. The old gentleman, moreover, had been always good to him; had often given him the proceeds of a rubber at whist, as a knight of old used to dispense the gains of his skill in tourney to some favourite page; and had mitigated the melancholy of many a vacation at the Tower by an invitation to the Manor.

It seemed strange to many, and to Mr. Freeman in particular, that Mr. Talbot permitted his son to visit at such a house, where not only cards, as the reverend gentleman put it, 'had their attractions,' but most of the pleasures of this world were to be found in profusion, and but little was thought of the next. It was only a part of the inconsistency which, as I have said, Mr. Talbot had exhibited of late years in respect to his son, whose very presence at

the Tower seemed at times unwelcome to him; but it was a very striking example of it. For, to say truth, it would have been a compliment to call old Reginald Pole 'little better than one of the wicked.' He was fatter than Falstaff by many poundsfor years no horse could have carried him, even if the resources of science could have contrived a machine to lift him into the saddle—and he had grown more 'carnal' with his increasing bulk. If he had lived a town life he must long ago have come to the end of it, but the country air, and exercise (while he could take it), and the general wholesomeness of his surroundings, had counteracted the effects of a course of existence which the term 'fast' would have described but feebly. He had run through two large fortunes, and 'please Heaven,' was his own pious statement, 'he would run through a third, if only time enough were granted to him.' There were stories. afloat to the disadvantage of his conscientious observance of the truth, but in this respect he was a man of his word.

As

nothing could stop him, his heir and grandson, Henry Pole, took the wisest course that was left to him, by residing at the Manor, where he was very welcome, and taking his share of the good things while they were still going.

Old Reginald himself belonged to the same generation as Algernon Talbot, but he had been much more intimate with Francis (in his wild days) than with his father. They had heard the chimes at midnight together very often, and it was understood, when the younger man had become convinced of the error of his ways, that he had made a very earnest appeal to the elder to turn from his evil courses ere it should be too late. His reply had been brief, but characteristic- Dear Frank, I never hedge.' The two men had not met since, save once or twice upon the road, when they did not exchange a syllable. But neither felt for the other any harsher sentiment than pity. Mr. Pole thought his old friend a fool for being frightened at a shadow, and giving up 'cakes and ale'

while in Mr. Talbot's eyes this old man, who clutched at gauds (or worse) upon the brink of the grave, was nothing short of a madman; but the tender touch of old companionship was felt by both.

'If you will let your boy come over to the Manor he will find some young friends. I shall not bite him,' old Reginald had written a few months after their estrangement, and Mr. Talbot had permitted his son to go. Invitations had come since again and again with the like result. But when one came from the same quarter some weeks after Dick's final return from Eton, Mr. Talbot hesitated as to what he should reply. He was conscious that the boy had now reached an age when not only bad example would be injurious to him, but the lax views of life and conduct prevalent in the society he would meet under Mr. Pole's roof might manent impression on him.

felt, shut his eyes to this

leave a per

He had, he

matter long

enough, indeed, too long; and yet, ever since he had made that confession to the

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