“My husband,” replied Mrs. Horton, “is certainly a good man, very indulgent and devoted; but some way he does not appreciate the nobility. He even argues with me and sometimes almost convinces me, against my own knowledge, when the question is raised. Still, I am much attached to him; I really am, Lucy.” “Oh, don’t be sentimental, Mrs. Horton,” laughed her companion. “Come, it’s very bad form for a wife to pretend to be in love with her husband. Don’t try to talk to him about the advantages of a suitable English alliance for Ethel. He does not understand, as you and I do, and it’s only a waste of words. Wait until Ethel is Lady Avondale, and you and I will quite desert the frontier for merry old England.” CHAPTER XII.—KANSAS PROHIBITION ONE evening, not very many days after Hugh’s visit to the Horton family, he happened to meet Linus Lynn, the justice of the peace. Linus Lynn not only discharged the duties of village squire, but he was also engaged in the land, loan, and insurance business. He introduced himself to Hugh in the most matter-of-fact way, by saying that he had been intending, for some time, to do himself the honor of calling at the bank and getting acquainted. “But business, you know, Mr. Stanton, is a very jealous master.” A Falstaff smile overspread his chubby, side-whiskered face as he spoke. “Quite true,” replied Hugh, “and it’s my misfortune not to have met you before. I hope soon to form the acquaintance of every business man in Meade.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” said Judge Lynn, as he shut one eye knowingly. The judge was in many respects an odd-looking individual, with his round face and straggling side-whiskers, and Hugh instinctively said, at first sight, “Here is a character.” In the first place and chiefly, his appearance gave evidence that Kansas prohibition did not prohibit. His bloated face attested to this—his immensity of waist measurement added proof—his whiskey-dwindled legs were argument eloquent, while his alcoholic breath was conviction itself. This was Judge Lynn,—good-natured, frank, easy-going, improvident, in debt to everybody, and still willing to borrow. Unendowed with wisdom—and yet ignorant as a child of the fact—a man whom everybody liked simply because there was no reason why he should be hated. He knew every resident of Meade—in fact he knew every soul in the county and for miles beyond its borders—he also, in turn, was known. He was a pioneer of Kansas—came out from Indiana when very young, and in his years of residence in the Southwest had told people of his boyhood exploits on the banks of the Wabash. According to his own story he had been a great foot-racer—in fact, had never been beaten. The only evidence, however, of such athletic feats, came from his oft-repeated—even proverbial—assertions in regard to them.