ulgence
his long life of fatigue and hardship had earned.

"They're coming now, Mr. Drayton," said a livery-servant, entering
hastily. "George saw the light of their cigars as they came up the
avenue."

"Bring in the soup, then, at once, and send George here with another
log for the fire. There'll be no dressing for dinner to-day, I 'll be
bound;" and imparting a sort of sarcastic bitterness to his speech,
he filled himself a glass of sherry at the sideboard and tossed it
off,--only just in time, for the door opened, and a very noisy, merry
party of four entered the room, and made for the fire.

"As soon as you like, Drayton," said Augustus, the eldest Bramleigh,
a tall, good-looking, but somewhat stern-featured man of about
eight-and-twenty. The second, Temple Bramleigh, was middle-sized, with
a handsome but somewhat over-delicate-looking face, to which a simpering
affectation of imperturbable self-conceit gave a sort of puppyism; while
the youngest, Jack, was a bronzed, bright-eyed, fine-looking fellow,
manly, energetic, and determined, but with a sweetness when he smiled
and showed his good teeth that implied a soft and very impressionable
nature. They were all in scarlet coats, and presented a group strikingly
good-looking and manly. The fourth of the party was, however, so
eminently handsome, and so superior in expression as well as lineament,
that the others seemed almost vulgar beside him. He was in black coat
and cords, a checked cravat seeming to indicate that he was verging, so
far as he might, on the limits of hunting costume; for George L'Estrange
was in orders, and the curate of the parish in which Castello stood. It
is not necessary to detain the reader by any lengthened narrative of the
handsome young parson. Enough to say, that it was not all from choice he
had entered the Church,--narrow fortune, and the hope of a small family
living, deciding him to adopt a career which, to one who had a passion
for field-sports, seemed the very last to gratify his tastes. As a
horseman he was confessedly the first in the country round; although
his one horse--he was unable to keep a second--condemned him to rare
appearance at the meets. The sight of the parson and his black mare,
Nora Creina, in the field, were treated with a cheer, for he was a
universal favorite, and if a general suffrage could have conferred the
episcopate, George would have had his mitre many a day ago.

So sure a seat and so perfect a hand ne