66 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. 



the windows ! By Jove ! we shall have a terrible night to 

 drive home in." 



" There is no necessity for your going," replied Mrs. Gordon ; 

 *Hhere are beds for you all." 



" I must return home/' said Conyers, ** having a very early 

 engagement to-morrow morning." 



" Then Constance must stay, at least, as she drove over in 

 the phaeton, and I will not allow her to return in it, such a 

 night as this j you, gentlemen, can do as you please." 



To this arrangement Constance at first demurred ; but being 

 overruled by Mrs. Gordon and Blanche's entreaties^, consented 

 to remain — her brother promising to drive over the next day, 

 and take her home. 



After the gentlemen had left the Priory that night, no 

 allusion was made by Blanche to her friend about her brother's 

 conduct, neither did Constance mention his name. Mrs. Gordon 

 also wisely forebore, during Blanche's stay with her, to make 

 the slightest remark, which might lead her niece to suppose that 

 William Beauchamp had ever intrusted her with the secret of 

 his heart. But Blanche pondered long and deeply on his 

 words, and treasured up a little sprig of heliotrope he had 

 given her (unperceived by any one), at parting, the day he 

 drove over his sister. 



CHAPTER VII. 



We must now pass over a few days, until the fixture at Lord 

 Mervyn's seat, Marston Castle, when a grand collation was pre- 

 pared, of which few were disjiosed to partake, notwithstanding 

 Will Beauchamp's leading the way, and pressing others to 

 follow his example. His lordship was no favourite with any 

 of the old county families, and his very look gave the lie direct 

 to any friendly or hospitable feeling. The fox-hunting commu- 

 nity saw, at a glance, that his grand breakfast was only a sham 

 and pretext to allay their well-grounded suspicions of his de- 

 struction to their sport ; and none, save a few of the mosi: 

 zealous sujjporters of the hunt, who deemed it an act of policy 

 to present themselves in his breakfast-room, would condescend 

 to enter within the vestibule of Marston Castle. 



Avoided by his son, feared by his daughter, and despised by 

 his wife, Lord Mervyn stood aloof, even from his own family^ 



