ed, the
last time he came over here, that he was growing loutish in his
manners, and that he bore himself with less respect to his elders
than is seemly in a lad of that age. He needs curbing, and would
carry himself all the better if, like Charlie, he had an hour a day
at sword exercise. I speak for the boy's good. It is true that you
yourself, being a bitter Whig, mix but little with your neighbours,
who are for the most part the other way of thinking; but this may
not go on for ever, and you would, I suppose, like Alured, when he
grows up, to mix with others of his rank in the county; and it
would be well, therefore, that he should have the accomplishments
and manners of young men of his own age."

John Dormay did not reply hastily--it was his policy to keep on
good terms with his wife's cousin, for the knight was a man of far
higher consideration, in the county, than himself. His smile,
however, was not a pleasant one, as he rose and said:

"My mission has hardly terminated as I expected, Sir Marmaduke. I
came to complain, and I go away advised somewhat sharply."

"Tut, tut, man!" the knight said. "I speak only for the lad's good,
and I am sure that you cannot but feel the truth of what I have
said. What does Alured want to make enemies for? It may be that it
was only my son who openly resented his ill-timed remarks, but you
may be sure that others were equally displeased, and maybe their
resentment will last much longer than that which was quenched in a
fair stand-up fight. Certainly, there need be no malice between the
boys. Alured's defeat may even do him good, for he cannot but feel
that it is somewhat disgraceful to be beaten by one nearly a head
shorter than he."

"There is, no doubt, something in what you say, Sir Marmaduke,"
John Dormay said blandly, "and I will make it my business that,
should the boys meet again as antagonists, Alured shall be able to
give a better account of himself."

"He is a disagreeable fellow," Sir Marmaduke said to himself, as he
watched John Dormay ride slowly away through the park, "and, if it
were not that he is husband to my cousin Celia, I would have nought
to do with him. She is my only kinswoman, and, were aught to happen
to Charlie, that lout, her son, would be the heir of Lynnwood. I
should never rest quiet in my grave, were a Whig master here.

"I would much rather that he had spoken wrathfully, when I
straightly gave him my opinion of the boy, who is growing up an