degrees only, for he
stayed to look over every gate, and up into almost every tree. He stopped
to listen as his ear caught the sound of hoofs on the distant road, and
again at the faint noise of a gun fired a mile away. At the corner of a
field a team of horses--his own--were resting awhile as the carter and his
lad ate their luncheon. Harry stayed to talk to the man, and yet again at
the barn door to speak to his men at work within with the winnowing
machine. The homestead stood on an eminence, but was hidden by elms and
sycamores, so that it was possible to pass at a distance without observing
it.

On entering the sitting-room Harry leaned his gun against the wall in the
angle between it and the bureau, from which action alone it might have
been known that he was a bachelor, and that there were no children about
the house to get into danger with fire-arms. His elderly aunt, who acted
as housekeeper, was already at table waiting for him. It was spread with a
snow-white cloth, and almost equally snow-white platter for bread--so much
and so well was it cleaned. They ate home-baked bread; they were so many
miles from a town or baker that it was difficult to get served regularly,
a circumstance which preserved that wholesome institution. There was a
chine of bacon, small ale, and a plentiful supply of good potatoes. The
farmer did full justice to the sweet picking off the chine, and then
lingered over an old cheese. Very few words were spoken.

Then, after his dinner, he sat in his arm-chair--the same that he had used
for many years--and took a book. For Harry rather enjoyed a book, provided
it was not too new. He read works of science, thirty years old, solid and
correct, but somewhat behind the age; he read histories, such as were
current in the early part of the present century, but none of a later date
than the end of the wars of the First Napoleon. The only thing modern he
cared for in literature was a 'society' journal, sent weekly from London.
These publications are widely read in the better class of farmsteads now.
Harry knew something of most things, even of geology. He could show you
the huge vertebrae of some extinct saurian, found while draining was being
done. He knew enough of archaeology to be able to tell any enthusiastic
student who chanced to come along where to find the tumuli and the
earthworks on the Downs. He had several Roman coins, and a fine bronze
spearhead, which had been found upon the farm. The