"Very well," answered his master.--"Now, bring me my writing-desk, and some books from the library--the greatest trash you can find." The man disappeared, and returned with the desk, from which, while he was again absent bringing the trash in quest of which his master had despatched him, Burrel took out some notes and accounts, and apparently went over the latter with the accurate attention of a man of business. He then wrote a brief note, which he folded and sealed, and, giving it to Harding on his return, bade him deliver it the next morning early, and wait an answer. All this being completed, he took up the first volume that had been brought him, cast himself back in his chair, and skimmed the pages till bed-time. The breakfast-table was laid out by the neat hands of Mrs. Wilson, exactly at eight o'clock the next morning--the white table-cloth, the jug of rich yellow cream, the two smooth rolls, somewhat browner than the same article of food in London, but doubtless much more the children of the corn--all bespoke a comfortable country breakfast; and when, in about half an hour after, Burrel descended in shooting guise, he looked round with that air of satisfaction which a man feels, after a long London season, on waking and finding himself really in the country. The hot water, not in the accursed lukewarm urn, but in a kettle hissing hot from the fire, was brought in by Mrs. Wilson; but in about ten minutes Harding himself appeared, and, with his usual silence, presented his master with an answer to his note of the evening before. It ran as follows, and explains both itself and the one to which it replied:-- "_Emberton Park, Wednesday Morning_. "Sir Sidney Delaware is happy to have the power of affording Mr. Burrel any gratification; and begs to say, that he is perfectly at liberty to shoot over any part of his property, with the exception of the grounds in the immediate vicinity of the house, the game on which he wishes to preserve." "Hum!" said Burrel, shaking his head as he read the note; "Whom did you see, Harding?" "A maid-servant, sir," replied the man, "and the old gentleman himself." "Did he say nothing about calling on me?" demanded Burrel; "or being happy to see me?" "Nothing, sir," replied the man; and, with an injunction to get his gun ready, and see that the old lady did not give the dogs any thing to eat before they went out, his master dismissed him. "We must find some means," said Burrel to himself when the servant was gone; "but I am afraid it will be more difficult than I thought----But the young man will call of course."