ome
savage wilderness in Ross or Sutherland, to be seen of actors and
amateurs no more. His gun and his rod would be his sole companions; his
library would consist of St. John, Colquhoun, "Stonehenge," and Francis
(not of Assisi); by moor and stream he would earn his own subsistence;
and theatres and fashionable life and the fantastic aspirations and
ambitions of _les Precieuses Ridicules_ would be banished from him
forever. But fortunately a nine-o'clock dinner had driven this foolish
entertainment late, so that it did not last long; the ladies were
unanimously willing to retire; the gentlemen thereupon trooped off to
the gun-room to have a smoke and a glass of whiskey and soda water; and
very soon thereafter the deep-breathing calm of the whole household told
that the labors of the Twelfth were over.

CHAPTER IX.

VENATOR IMMEMOR.

And why was it, when, in course of time, it became practicable to
arrange a deer-stalking expedition for him, why was it that he
voluntarily chose to encounter what Lord Rockminster had called the very
extremes of fatigue and human misery? He knew that he was about to
undergo tortures of anxiety and privation; and, what was worse, he knew
he was going to miss. He had saturated his mind with gillies' stories of
capital shots who had completely lost their nerve on first catching
sight of a stag. The "buck-ague" was already upon him. Not for him was
there waiting away in these wilds some Muckle Hart of Ben More to gain a
deathless fame from his rifle-bullet. He was about to half-kill himself
with the labors of a long and arduous expedition, and at the end of it
he foresaw himself returning home defeated, dejected, in the deepest
throes of mortification and chagrin.

And look what he was giving up. Here was a whole houseful of charming
women all ready to pet him and make much of him; and in their society he
would be at home, dealing with things with which he was familiar. Lady
Sybil would be grateful to him if he helped her with the music she was
arranging for "Alfred: a Masque;" he could be of abundant service, too,
to Lady Rosamund, who was now making individual studies for her large
drawing of "Luncheon on the Twelfth;" though perhaps he could not lend
much aid to Lady Adela, who was understood to be getting on very well
with her new novel. But, at all events, he would be in his own element;
he would be among things that he understood; he would be no trembling
ignoramus adventur