red at the thought that one day Horace Pendyce would no longer
be there to bark. But not often, for he had not much imagination.

All the morning he had been working at that old vexed subject of Common
Rights on Worsted Scotton, which his father had fenced in and taught him
once for all to believe was part integral of Worsted Skeynes. The matter
was almost beyond doubt, for the cottagers--in a poor way at the time
of the fencing, owing to the price of bread--had looked on apathetically
till the very last year required by law to give the old Squire
squatter's rights, when all of a sudden that man, Peacock's father, had
made a gap in the fence and driven in beasts, which had reopened the
whole unfortunate question. This had been in '65, and ever since there
had been continual friction bordering on a law suit. Mr. Pendyce never
for a moment allowed it to escape his mind that the man Peacock was at
the bottom of it all; for it was his way to discredit all principles as
ground of action, and to refer everything to facts and persons; except,
indeed, when he acted himself, when he would somewhat proudly admit that
it was on principle. He never thought or spoke on an abstract question;
partly because his father had avoided them before him, partly because
he had been discouraged from doing so at school, but mainly because he
temperamentally took no interest in such unpractical things.

It was, therefore, a source of wonder to him that tenants of his own
should be ungrateful. He did his duty by them, as the Rector, in whose
keeping were their souls, would have been the first to affirm; the
books of his estate showed this, recording year by year an average
gross profit of some sixteen hundred pounds, and (deducting raw material
incidental to the upkeep of Worsted Skeynes) a net loss of three.

In less earthly matters, too, such as non-attendance at church, a
predisposition to poaching, or any inclination to moral laxity, he could
say with a clear conscience that the Rector was sure of his support. A
striking instance had occurred within the last month, when, discovering
that his under-keeper, an excellent man at his work, had got into a
scrape with the postman's wife, he had given the young fellow notice,
and cancelled the lease of his cottage.

He rose and went to the plan of the estate fastened to the wall, which
he unrolled by pulling a green silk cord, and stood there scrutinising
it carefully and placing his finger here and