"And also for the space into which the ninety thousand souls are packed," quoth Tracy Runningbrook. "Well! well!" went Sir Twickenham. "The knife is the law to an Italian of the South," said Mr. Powys. "He distrusts any other, because he never gets it. Where law is established, or tolerably secure, the knife is not used. Duels are rare. There is too much bonhomie for the point of honour." "I should like to believe that all men are as just to their mistresses," Lady Charlotte sighed, mock-earnestly. Presently Emilia touched the arm of Mr. Powys. She looked agitated. "I want to be told the name of that gentleman." His eyes were led to rest on the handsome hussar-captain. "Do you know him?" "But his name!" "Do me the favour to look at me. Captain Gambier." "It is!" Captain Gambier's face was resolutely kept in profile to her. "I hear a rumour," said Lady Gosstre to Arabella, "that you think of bidding for the Besworth estate. Are you tired of Brookfield?" "Not tired; but Brookfield is modern, and I confess that Besworth has won my heart." "I shall congratulate myself on having you nearer neighbours. Have you many, or any rivals?" "There is some talk of the Tinleys wishing to purchase it. I cannot see why." "What people are they?" asked Lady Charlotte. "Do they hunt?" "Oh, dear, no! They are to society what Dissenters are to religion. I can't describe them otherwise." "They pass before me in that description," said Lady Gosstre. "Besworth's an excellent centre for hunting," Lady Charlotte remarked to Wilfrid. "I've always had an affection for that place. The house is on gravel; the river has trout; there's a splendid sweep of grass for the horses to exercise. I think there must be sixteen spare beds. At all events, I know that number can be made up; so that if you're too poor to live much in London, you can always have your set about you." The eyes of the fair economist sparkled as she dwelt on these particular advantages of Besworth.