All this had happened so long ago, according to modern methods of reckoning, that the county had already forgotten what it was the original Ashley had manufactured, or that he had manufactured anything at all.  By the younger generation it was assumed that Heneage had passed to the Ashley family through intermarriage with the Umfravilles.  Certain it was that the Ashleys maintained the Umfraville tradition and used the Umfraville arms.  What chiefly survived of the spirit that had made the manufacture of brushes so lucrative a trade was the intention young Rupert Ashley took with him into the army—­to get on.

He had got on.  Every one spoke of him nowadays as a coming man.  It was conceded that when generals like Lord Englemere or Lord Bannockburn passed away, it would be to such men as Rupert Ashley—­the number of them could be counted on the fingers of your two hands!—­that the country would look for its defenders.  They were young men, comparatively, as yet; but they were waiting and in training.  It was a national asset to know that they were there.

It was natural, then, that Ashley’s eyes should be turning in the direction of the great appointments.  He had won so much distinction in the Jakh War and the Dargal War that there was nothing to which, with time, he could not aspire.  True, he had rivals; true, there were men who could supplant him without putting any great strain upon their powers; true, there were others with more family influence, especially of that petticoat influence which had been known to carry so much weight in high and authoritative quarters; but he had confidence in himself, in his ability, his star—­the last named of which had the merit of always seeming to move forward.

Everything began to point, therefore, to his marrying.  In a measure it was part of his qualification for high command.  He had reached that stage in his development, both private and professional, at which the co-operation of a good and graceful wife would double his capacity for public service, besides giving him that domestic consolation of which he began to feel the need.  There were posts he could think of—­posts that would naturally be vacant before many years were past—­in which the fact of his being unmarried would be a serious drawback if his name were to come up.  Better to be unmarried than to be saddled with a wife who from any deficiency of birth or manner was below the level of her station!  Of course!  He had seen more than one man, splendidly qualified otherwise, passed over because of that mischance.  But with a wife who in her way was equal to him in his they would both go far.  Who could venture to say how far?