been a dean. Though he was constantly on horseback, he had
never been known to do more than perhaps look at a meet, and it was
understood through Brotherton generally that he had forbidden his
daughter to hunt. But now, no sooner was his daughter married, and the
necessity of setting an example to her at an end, than the Dean, with a
rosette in his hat,--for so the story was told,--was after the hounds
like a sporting farmer or a mere country gentleman! On the very next
day Mr. Groschut told the whole story to the Bishop. But Mr. Groschut
had not seen the performance, and the Bishop affected to disbelieve it.
"I'm afraid, my lord," said the chaplain, "I'm afraid you'll find it's
true." "If he rides after every pack of dogs in the county, I don't
know that I can help it," said the Bishop. With this Mr. Groschut was
by no means inclined to agree. A bishop is as much entitled to cause
inquiries to be made into the moral conduct of a dean as of any country
clergyman in his diocese. "Suppose he were to take to gambling on the
turf," said Mr. Groschut, with much horror expressed in his tone and
countenance. "But riding after a pack of dogs isn't gambling on the
turf," said the Bishop, who, though he would have liked to possess the
power of putting down the Dean, by no means relished the idea of being
beaten in an attempt to do so.

And Mr. Canon Holdenough heard of it. "My dear," he said to his wife,
"Manor Cross is coming out strong in the sporting way. Not only is Mrs.
Houghton laid up there with a broken limb, but your brother's
father-in-law took the brush on the same day."

"The Dean!" said Lady Alice.

"So they tell me."

"He was always so particular in not letting Mary ride over a single
fence. He would hardly let her go to a meet on horseback."

"Many fathers do what they won't let their daughters do. The Dean has
been always giving signs that he would like to break out a little."

"Can they do anything to him?"

"Oh dear no;--not if he was to hunt a pack of hounds himself, as far as
I know."

"But I suppose it's wrong, Canon," said the clerical wife.

"Yes; I think it's wrong because it will scandalise. Everything that
gives offence is wrong, unless it be something that is on other grounds
expedient. If it be true we shall hear about it a good deal here, and
it will not contribute to brotherly love and friendship among us
clergymen."

There was another canon at Brotherton, one Dr. Pountner, a red-faced