red. She was sorry for it,
but she could not venture to stop him. And she was sorry also that
nothing had been settled as to the writing of any letter to Clara.
She, however, would take upon herself to write while he was gone.

He went straight out towards the stables, hardly conscious of what he
was doing or where he was going, and found his hack ready saddled for
him in the stall. Then he remembered that he must either go or come
to some decision that he would not go. The horse that he intended
to ride had been sent on to the meet, and if he were not to be used,
some message must be despatched as to the animal's return. But Will
was half inclined to go, although he knew that the world would judge
him to be heartless if he were to go hunting immediately on the
receipt of the tidings which had reached him that morning. He thought
that he would like to set the world at defiance in this matter. Let
Frederic Aylmer go into mourning for the old man who was dead. Let
Frederic Aylmer be solicitous for the daughter who was left lonely in
the old house. No doubt he, Will Belton, had inherited the dead man's
estate, and should, therefore, in accordance with all the ordinary
rules of the world on such matters, submit himself at any rate to the
decency of funereal reserve. An heir should not be seen out hunting
on the day on which such tidings as to his heritage had reached him.
But he did not wish, in his present mood, to be recognised as the
heir. He did not want the property. He would have preferred to rid
himself altogether of any of the obligations which the ownership of
the estate entailed upon him. It was not permitted to him to have the
custody of the old squire's daughter, and therefore he was unwilling
to meddle with any of the old squire's concerns.

Belton had gone into the stable, and had himself loosed the animal,
leading him out into the yard as though he were about to mount him.
Then he had given the reins to a stable boy, and had walked away
among the farm buildings, not thinking of what he was doing. The lad
stood staring at him with open mouth, not at all understanding his
master's hesitation. The meet, as the boy knew, was fourteen miles
off, and Belton had not allowed himself above an hour and a half for
the journey. It was his practice to jump into the saddle and bustle
out of the place, as though seconds were important to him. He would
look at his watch with accuracy, and measure his pace from spot to
spot