One of the reasons which actuated Mr. Lexington, a shrewd though liberal man in business matters, was a dislike to paying the income-tax in two countries at the same time. He could afford it, certainly, but it struck him as wasteful, and in a measure unfair, to make an Australian pay extravagantly for desiring to live in the mother-land. Then, after assisting to enlarge the empire abroad, the price of landed estates in England had gone down seriously--was, indeed, going down still. With a probability of a serious fall in values in both hemispheres, it was better to part with his English investment while he could get a purchaser for it, who, like himself, was not disposed to stand upon trifles. So it came to pass that, after a conference between his own and the Massinger solicitors, Mr. Lexington accepted the proposal to sell Massinger Court, with the Hereford herd of high-bred cattle, hacks, hunters, carriage-horses, vehicles, saddlery--indeed, everything just as it stood. All these adjuncts to be taken at a valuation, and added to the price of the estate, the re-purchase of which by a member of the family was what most probably, though his solicitor declined to say, old Mr. Hamon de Massinger, the testator, had in view all along. The county was ridiculously overjoyed, as some acidulated person said, that the rightful heir, so to speak, was come to his own again. Independently of such feeling, nowhere stronger than in English county society, few localities but would feel a certain satisfaction at the return of a county magnate--rich, unmarried, and distinguished, as a man must always be who has fought England's battles abroad, and shed his blood in upholding her honour. Thus, although the free-handed and unaffected Australian family was heartily regretted, and "farewelled" with suitable honours, the sentimental corner in all hearts responded fervently to the news that the young squire had returned to the home of his ancestors, and would henceforth, as he declared at the tenants' enthusiastically joyous reception, live among his own people. Of course, all sorts of exaggerated versions of his life in the far South prevailed. These comprised prowess in war, hairbreadth escapes, wounds, and captivity, the whole rounded off with a legend of a beautiful native princess, who had brought him as her dower a principality beneath the Southern Cross. To these romantic rumours he paid no attention whatever, refusing to be drawn, and giving the most cursory answers to direct questions. But when, after spending a quiet year on his estate, in the management of which he took great interest, it was announced that he was about to be married to the beautiful, distinguished, fascinating, eccentric Hypatia Tollemache, all the county was wildly excited. When the event took place, the particulars of the quiet wedding were read and re-read by every one in his own and the adjacent counties.