Riding a noble horse, and advancing from the opposite direction to that of Colonel Max and his guests, came a tall, stately man, getting in years now. His features were regular as though they had been chiselled from marble: his fine blue eyes could sparkle yet; and his snow-white hair, wavy as of yore, was worn rather long behind, giving him somewhat the appearance of a patriarch. But the healthy bloom, once characteristic of his face, had left it now: the paleness of ill-health sat there, and he bent his body, as if too weak to bear up on his horse. His approach was discerned; and many started forward, as with one impulse, to greet him. None stood higher in the estimation of his fellow-men than did Sir George Godolphin; no other name was more respected in the county. "This is good indeed, Sir George! To see you out again!" "I thought I might venture," said Sir George, essaying to meet a dozen hands at once. "It has been a long confinement; a tedious illness. Six months, and never out of the house; and, for the last fortnight, out only in a garden-chair. My lady wanted to box me up in the carriage this morning; if I must come, she said. But I would not have it: had I been unable to sit my horse, I would have remained at home." "You feel weak still?" remarked one, after most of the greeters had had their say, and were moving away. "Ay. Strength, for me, has finally departed, I fear." "You must not think that, Sir George. Now that you have so far recovered as to go out, you will improve daily." "And get well all one way, Godolphin," joined in the hearty voice of Colonel Max. "Never lose heart, man." Sir George turned his eyes upon Colonel Max with a cheerful glance. "Who told you I was losing heart?" "Yourself. When a man begins to talk of his strength having finally departed, what's that, but a proof of his losing heart? Low spirits never cured any one yet: but they have killed thousands." "I shall be sixty-six years old to-morrow, colonel: and if, at that age, I can 'lose heart' at the prospect of the great change, my life has served me to little purpose. The young may faint at the near approach of death; the old should not." "Sixty-six, old!" ejaculated Colonel Max. "I have never kept count of my own age, but I know I am that if I am a day; and I am young yet. I may live these thirty years to come: and shall try for it, too." "I hope you will, colonel," was the warm answer of Sir George Godolphin. "Prior's Ash could ill spare you." "I don't know about that," laughed the colonel. "But I do know that I could ill spare life. I wish you could take the run with us this morning!" "I wish I could. But that you might accuse me of--what was it?--losing heart, I would say that my last run with the hounds has been taken. It has cost me an effort to come so far as this, walking my horse at a snail's pace. Do you see Lady Godolphin? She ought to be here."