The forest was full of noises now; a crowd of starlings were protesting wildly overhead, there were shouts far away and the throb of hoofs, and the ground game was pouring out of the undergrowth and dispersing in all directions.  Once a boar ran past, grumbling as he went, turning a wicked and resentful eye on the placid gentleman in green who sat on the ground, but who felt for his long dirk as he saw the fury on the brute’s face and the foam on the tusks.  But the pig thought discretion was best, and hurried on complaining.  More than one troop of deer flew past, the does gathered round their lord to protect him, all swerving together like a string of geese as they turned the corner of the shelter and caught sight of Ralph; but the beaters were coming out now, whistling and talking as they came, and gathering into groups of two or three on the ground, for the work was done, and it had been hot going.

Mary Maxwell appeared presently on her grey horse, looking slender and dignified in her green riding-suit with the great plume shading her face, and rode up to Ralph whom she had seen earlier in the afternoon.

“My husband?” she enquired looking down at Ralph who was lying with his hat over his eyes.

“He left me just now,” said her brother, “very hot and red, after a stag which he missed.  That will mean some conversation to-night, Minnie.”

She smiled down at him.

“I shall agree with him, you know,” she said.

“Of course you will; it is but right.  And I suppose I shall too.”

“Will you wait for him?  Tell him we are going home by the mill.  It is all over now.”

Ralph nodded, and Mary moved off down the glade to join the others.

Ralph began to wonder how Nicholas would take the news of Chris’ decision.  Mary, he knew very well, would assent to it quietly as she did to all normal events, even though they were not what she would have wished; and probably her husband would assent too, for he had a great respect for a churchman.  For himself his opinions were divided and he scarcely knew what he thought.  From the temporal point of view Chris’ step would be an advantage to him, for the vow of poverty would put an end to any claims upon the estate on the part of the younger son; but Ralph was sufficiently generous not to pay much attention to this.  From the social point of view, no great difference would be made; it was as respectable to have a monk for a brother as a small squire, and Chris could never be more than this unless he made a good marriage.  From the spiritual point of view—­and here Ralph stopped and wondered whether it was very seriously worth considering.  It was the normal thing of course to believe in the sublimity of the religious life and its peculiar dignity; but the new learning was beginning to put questions on the subject that had very considerably affected the normal view in Ralph’s eyes.  In that section of society where new ideas are generated and