On his return home, however, he made no complaint of Stratton.  He was too strong-willed to own that he had been in any way wrong, and when early in the following week he started for St. Cuthbert’s, he was able to speak with cheerful hope of his new prospects.  If ultimately he should find life in Stratton to be unendurable, he would cut that part of his career short, and contrive to get up to London at an earlier time than he had intended.

On the 31st of August Lord Ongar and Sir Hugh Clavering reached Clavering Park, and, as has been already told, a pretty little note was at once sent up to Miss Brabazon in her bedroom.  When she met Lord Ongar in the drawing-room, about an hour afterwards, she had instructed herself that it would be best to say nothing of the note; but she could not refrain from a word.  “I am much obliged, my lord, by your kindness and generosity,” she said, as she gave him her hand.  He merely bowed and smiled, and muttered something as to his hoping that he might always find it as easy to gratify her.  He was a little man, on whose behalf it certainly appeared that the Peerage must have told a falsehood; it seemed so at least to those who judged of his years from his appearance.  The Peerage said that he was thirty-six, and that, no doubt, was in truth his age, but any one would have declared him to be ten years older.  This look was produced chiefly by the effect of an elaborately dressed jet black wig which he wore.  What misfortune had made him bald so early—­if to be bald early in life be a misfortune—­I cannot say; but he had lost the hair from the crown of his head, and had preferred wiggery to baldness.  No doubt an effort was made to hide the wiggishness of his wigs, but what effect in that direction was ever made successfully?  He was, moreover, weak, thin, and physically poor, and had, no doubt, increased this weakness and poorness by hard living.  Though others thought him old, time had gone swiftly with him, and he still thought himself a young man.  He hunted, though he could not ride.  He shot, though he could not walk.  And, unfortunately, he drank, though he had no capacity for drinking!  His friends at last had taught him to believe that his only chance of saving himself lay in marriage, and therefore he had engaged himself to Julia Brabazon, purchasing her at the price of a brilliant settlement.  If Lord Ongar should die before her, Ongar Park was to be hers for life, with thousands a year to maintain it.  Courton Castle, the great family seat, would of course go to the heir; but Ongar Park was supposed to be the most delightful small country-seat anywhere within thirty miles of London.  It lay among the Surrey hills, and all the world had heard of the charms of Ongar Park.  If Julia were to survive her lord, Ongar Park was to be hers; and they who saw them both together had but little doubt that she would come to the enjoyment of this clause in her settlement.  Lady Clavering had been clever in arranging the match;