"Satisfactory! the place has gone to rack and ruin. I don't believe those cursed poachers have left a head of game on the estate; but I know who's at the bottom of it, and he'd better look out." "I'm very sorry, dear," said Mrs Rolph, going behind her son's chair to stroke his hair. "The garden looks very nice; both Madge and I thought so. Why didn't you run over now and then to see that the keeper was doing his duty." "Run over?" cried Rolph, savagely; "who was going to run over here for every fool one met to be pointing his cursed finger at you, and saying, `There goes the fellow who didn't get married.'" "My dearest boy," said Mrs Rolph, soothingly, as she laid her cheek on the top of his head, "don't fret about that now. You know it's nearly eighteen months ago." "I don't care if it's eighteen hundred months ago--and do leave off, mother, you know I hate having my hair plastered down." Mrs Rolph kissed the place where her cheek had been laid, and then drew back, showing that the complaint had not been merited, for, so far from the hair being plastered down, there was scarcely any to plaster, Rolph's head being cropped close in athletic and on anti-Samsonic principles as regarded strength. "It was very, very hard for you, my dearest, and it is most unfortunate that they should have chosen the same time to return as we did. You-- er--heard that they are back?" "Of course I did, and if you'd any respect for your son, you'd sell this cursed hole, and go somewhere else." "Don't--don't ask me to do that, Rob, dear," said Mrs Rolph. "I know your poor father looked forward to your succeeding to it and keeping it up." "I hate the place," growled Rolph rustling his paper; and Mrs Rolph looked pleased, but she said nothing for some time. Then, very gently,-- "Rob, dearest, you are going to stay now you are here?" "No; I'm going to Hounslow to-morrow." "Not so soon as that, dear," said Mrs Rolph, pleadingly, as she laid her hand upon his shoulder. "Why not? What's the good of staying here?" "To please your mother, dearest, and--Madge, who is in a terribly weak state I had great difficulty in getting her back here." Rolph moved angrily, and crumpled up the paper, but Mrs Rolph bent down and kissed him. "There, all right," he said, "only don't bother me about it so. I can't forget that other cursed muddle, if you can." "No, my dear, of course not, but you should try to. And, Rob, dear, be a little more thoughtful about dearest Madge. She has, I know, suffered cruelly in the past, and does so now at times when you seem neglectful-- no, no, don't start, dear; I know you are not, but girls are exacting, and do love to spoil men by trying to keep them at their feet." "Like spaniels or pugs," growled Rolph, the latter being the more appropriate.