least," said George, after a laugh at this sample of eloquence
unadorned, "Mr. Steen does not err on the side of flattery in his
commendations of a candidate. But what makes him such an authority with
the farmers? Is he a first-rate agriculturist?"

"In thrift, yes!--in spirit, no! He says that all expensive experiments
should be left to gentlemen farmers. He is an authority with other
tenants: firstly, because he is a very keen censor of their landlords;
secondly, because he holds himself thoroughly independent of his own;
thirdly, because he is supposed to have studied the political bearings
of questions that affect the landed interest, and has more than once
been summoned to give his opinion on such subjects to Committees of both
Houses of Parliament. Here he comes. Observe, when I leave you to talk
to him: firstly, that you confess utter ignorance of practical farming;
nothing enrages him like the presumption of a gentleman farmer like
myself: secondly, that you ask his opinion on the publication of
Agricultural Statistics, just modestly intimating that you, as at
present advised, think that inquisitorial researches into a man's
business involve principles opposed to the British Constitution. And on
all that he may say as to the shortcomings of landlords in general, and
of your father in particular, make no reply, but listen with an air of
melancholy conviction. How do you do, Mr. Steen, and how's the mistress?
Why have you not brought her with you?"

"My good woman is in the straw again, Squire. Who is that youngster?"

"Hist! let me introduce Mr. Belvoir."

Mr. Belvoir offers his hand.

"No, sir!" vociferates Steen, putting both his own hands behind him. "No
offence, young gentleman. But I don't give my hand at first sight to
a man who wants to shake a vote out of it. Not that I know anything
against you. But, if you be a farmer's friend rabbits are not, and my
lord your father is a great one for rabbits."

"Indeed you are mistaken there!" cries George, with vehement
earnestness. Mr. Travers gave him a nudge, as much as to say, "Hold your
tongue." George understood the hint, and is carried off meekly by Mr.
Steen down the solitude of the plantations.

The guests now arrived fast and thick. They consisted chiefly not only
of Mr. Travers's tenants, but of farmers and their families within
the range of eight or ten miles from the Park, with a few of the
neighbouring gentry and clergy.

It was not a supper i