I told Uncle John after this of my meeting in the train with the Messrs. Bell, and he decided at once to send the brute up to Aldridge's, where the fine upstanding bay fetched exactly twenty-five guineas, and was dear at that.
On Christmas Eve I ventured to ask Grace for a Christmas present, to wit, herself, and as Jack, who was my best man, said at the wedding breakfast: "Though the mount was not a pleasant one, still as it was instrumental in obtaining for me my wife, I had no right to be too hard on Uncle John's New Horse."
THE HOG-BACKED STILE.
CHAPTER I.
COMING EVENTS.
Towards the middle of December, 1878, a dog-cart might have been seen standing outside the small station of Newcome, in Slopshire. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the turn-out—a goodish-looking animal in the shafts and a certain air of neatness stamped it as belonging to a gentleman, but beyond that there was no particular feature to attract attention. No gaudy red wheels, nothing dazzling in the way of "picking out;" simply an ordinary dog-cart, which had come down from Belton Hall to meet the 5.35 train from London.
Belton Hall, an old Elizabethan mansion, belonged to the Vivians, was inhabited by Colonel George Vivian and his daughter Mildred, and they were expecting two visitors, who had been asked to the Hall for Christmas and hunting—one, Jack Vivian, the Colonel's nephew; the other, a Mr. Thomas Simpson, who was known to the world in general to be following that calling which covers a multitude of sins, which means so much yet expresses so little, viz. "something in the City."