erwards to the occasion.
He was presiding at a harvest-home given to his own tenants, and had
passed from a warm eulogium on temperance and moderation to a vehement
harangue against total abstinence and total abstainers. He was,
however, cut short in the midst of his eloquence by a sturdy-looking
labourer, who struggled forward, beer-jug in hand, and, tottering at
every step, spluttered out,--

"Hooray, hooray, Sir Thomas! Here's long life to the squire--here's
long life to moderation. Hooray lads, hooray! Here's three cheers for
the squire and moderation. Stand fast to your principles, like me; as
for them total abstainers, they haven't got a leg to stand on."

With that he tumbled forward, and, unable to recover his balance, fell
flat on the ground before Sir Thomas, and lay there utterly unable to
rise.

As was the squire, so had he brought up his family.

Greymoor Park was a noble property, which had come down to him through a
long line of ancestors. The house stood on a rocky height, and was
surrounded, but not encumbered, by noble groups of trees, from the midst
of which it looked out over sloping terraced gardens, glowing with
flower-beds, which enamelled the smoothest of turf, across the park from
which the estate took its name. The original house was old, but while
the fine bay-windows, massive porch, stately gables, and wide
staircases, with their carved oak balustrades and pendants, had been
preserved untouched, all such modern improvements had been added as
would soften off the inconveniences of a less luxurious age. The park
itself was remarkable for the size and grouping of its timber, and was
well-stocked with deer. A fine sheet of water also spread itself out
over an open space between the trees, so as to form a delightful variety
to the view from the great bay-windows. Indeed, if the things of the
present life could have made a man happy, Sir Thomas had abundant
grounds for happiness in this world. Yes, _in_ this world, but not
beyond it. For Sir Thomas was just simply and thoroughly a man of the
world, and a most respectable man of the world too. No man could place
his finger on a blot in his character or conduct. He lived for the
world, and the world applauded him. He lived to please self, and to a
considerable extent he succeeded.

Lady Oldfield wished to be something higher. She knew the emptiness of
the world, at least in theory. She wished to be a Christian, but was
not. Th