THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. ^j 



Gravity was not a sportsman, but he was a very good fellow 

 for all that. He had inherited his mother's serious and 

 sombre temperameiU ; was (fortunately for the estate) a born 

 man of business, and took as much real pleasure in improving 

 and keeping up the farms and cottages as his noble parent 

 did in the chase — of either fox or female. Of the present 

 holder of the ancient title, and of the ^presumptive one, it 

 might fairly be said that each had his use, in his own 

 particular place ; and although so utterly dissimilar, no father 

 and son could have had more real affection for each other. 

 However the hunt servants were mounted, Lord Gravity was 

 always ready to pay (for he had supreme control of the 

 Castle establishment finances) any money for the Duke's 

 own hunters, in order that he should be carried well and 

 safely to hounds. 



With a clatter of the steel pole-chains and a rattle of 

 wheels, the noble M.F.H. drew up at the side of the road, and 

 dropping his whip into the bucket, raised his hat with the air 

 of a Sir Charles Grandison, in acknowledgment of the cloud of 

 hats raised to himself, and the chorus of " Good-mornings " 

 which gave him greeting. He was an immensely popular 

 man, and he knew it, and honestly rejoiced in the knowledge. 



A smart servant in the Ducal livery, at once brought a neat, 

 but rather small hunter alongside his Grace's carriage, and 

 the Duke, standing up, allowed his outer garments, a heavily 

 furred cloak and a soft silk muffler, to fall and slip away 

 from him, emerging in all the glory of ' pink ' and spotless 

 leathers. Casting a critical eye over the cleverly-built chest- 

 nut, he put his leg across him and was settled into his saddle 

 in a moment. Small as the horse was, standing something 



