Besides, open house, hunters five days a week for himself and daughter, and a large establishment, were not to be maintained for nothing; and the Colonel, in the matter of £ s. d., was a remarkably practical man, and had no objection to the possibility of a rich son-in-law, even though he might be "in the City."
Therefore, for Christmas week, Simpson and his horses were offered bed and board at Belton; and already, in his own mind, had Mr. S. drawn up a deed of partnership, with Miss Vivian as the Co., for he had been completely knocked out of time at the first sight of Mildred, and had fallen head over ears in—what he was pleased to call—love. What his chances of success were may be gathered from the following conversation, which took place in the drawing-room after the dog-cart had gone down to the station.
Mildred—it was a non-hunting day—was seated in a low easy-chair, occupied with five-o'clock tea, and by her side, on a cushion, reclined her cousin Ethel, a young girl of sixteen, while opposite was the Rev. Mr. Wilton, the clergyman of the place—one of the old school of sporting parsons, who was good for a fast twenty minutes either in the field or the pulpit; and though he had, for fifty odd years, hunted regularly four days a-week, there was not a man, woman, or child in the parish whose every trouble was not known to him, and there was not one of them who would not willingly have given up everything to help their idol, "t' owd parson."
With his back to the fire stood the Colonel, engaged in conversation with Florence Wingfield, sister to the expected Jack. She was staying in the house with her husband, Captain Tom Wingfield, of the 23rd Hussars, who at this moment was trying a new purchase by riding over to the kennels, some ten miles away.
"Which room has Mr. Simpson got, Milly?" said the Colonel suddenly.
"The best bachelor's room, papa," replied the young lady; "I put him there because I thought the gorgeous pattern of the new carpet you chose would suit his taste, and I have hung up some of those old sporting prints for him to take a lesson from."
"And what room has Jack got?" continued the Colonel, not best pleased at the impression his intended guest had produced on his daughter.
"Oh, dear old Jack has, of course, his own room. Florence arranged it just as it used to be, and before tea came I saw the fire was all right."