by all accounts, a blustering, roystering country squire, a devoted fox-hunter, a skilful horse-jockey and farrier, an active, practical farmer, and a hearty bon-vivant—by all accounts I say, for, except on Sundays when he went to church, I never saw him from month to month, unless, in crossing the hall or walking in the grounds, the figure of a tall, stout gentleman, with scarlet cheeks and crimson nose, happened to come across me; on which occasions, if he passed near enough to speak, an unceremonious nod, accompanied by a "Morning Miss Grey," or some such brief salutation was usually vouchsafed. Frequently indeed, his loud laugh reached me from afar, and oftener still, I heard him swearing and blaspheming against the footmen, groom, coachman, or some other hapless dependent.
Mrs. Murray was a handsome, dashing lady of forty, who certainly required neither rouge nor padding to add to her charms, and whose chief enjoyments were, or seemed to be, in giving or frequenting parties, and in dressing at the very top of the fashion.
I did not see her till eleven o'clock on the morning after my arrival, when she honoured me with a visit, just as my mother might step
