ld stay at Redmarley: a comparatively
small estate, whose owner was known to preserve only because it was a
tradition to do so, and not because he cared in the least about the
sport provided. Willets was wasted, they said, and it is possible that
at one time Willets, himself, agreed with them.

He came originally of Redmarley folk, and his wife from a neighbouring
village. He "got on" and became one of the favourite keepers on a
ducal estate in the North, much liked both by the noble owner and his
sporting friends; a steady, intelligent man with a real genius for the
gentle craft. He could charm trout from water where, apparently, no
trout existed; he could throw a fly with a skill and precision
beautiful to behold, and he was well read in the literature of his
pursuits. Much converse with gentlemen had softened the asperities of
his Cotswold speech, he expressed himself well, wrote both a good hand
and a good letter, and was very popular with those he served. Life
looked exceedingly rosy for Willets--for he was happy in his marriage
and a devoted father to his three little girls--when the hand of fate
fell heavily upon him. There came a terribly severe winter in that
part of Scotland, and one after another the little girls got bronchitis
and died; the three in five months.

He and his wife could bear the place no longer, and came South. The
Duke was really sorry to lose him, and took considerable trouble to
find him something to do in the Cotswold country whence he came.

It happened that just then old Mr Ffolliot was looking for a keeper who
would see after things in general at the Manor, and the fishing in
particular; so Willets accepted the situation merely as a make-shift
for a short time, till something worthier of his powers should turn up.

It was pleasant to be in the old county once more. There was help and
healing in the kind grey houses and the smiling pastoral country. His
wife was pleased to be near her people, and his work was of the
lightest. But Willets was not yet forty, he had ambitions, and the
wages were much smaller than what he had been getting. It would do,
perhaps, for a year or two, and he knew that whenever he liked, his
late master would be glad to have him back and would give him a post in
the Yorkshire dales.

Old Mr Ffolliot died, and his nephew, Hilary, reigned in his stead.
Willets announced to his wife that their time in Redmarley would be
short.

The young Squire marr