Miles Errington was one of those happy individuals said to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth.  The only son of a wealthy father, who, though enriched by trade, had come of an old Border race, he had had the best education money could procure.  More fortunate still in the endowments of nature, he was well formed, strong, active, and blessed with perfect health; while mentally he was intelligent and reflective, thoughtful rather than brilliant, and by temperament profoundly calm.  He had never got into scrapes or committed extravagance.  He was the despair of managing mammas and fascinating young married women; yet he was not unpopular with either sex.  Men respected his strong, steady character, his high standard, his sound judgment in matters affecting the stable and the race-course; women were attracted by his obligingness and generosity.  Still he was the sort of man with whom few became intimate, and none dared take a liberty.  Preserved by his fortunate surroundings and strong tranquil nature from difficulties or temptations, he could hardly understand the passionate outbreaks of weaker and more fiery men.

His greatest physical pleasure was an exciting run with the hounds; his deepest interest centred in politics; though never indulging in sentiment, he was an earnest patriot.  Whether he could be moved by more personal feelings remained to be proved.  At present the sources of tenderer affection, if they existed, lay so deep below the strata of reason and common-sense that only some artesian process could pierce to the imprisoned spring’s and set the “water of life” free, perhaps to bound, geyser-like, into the outer air.

Having travelled by sea and land, and looked into the social and political condition of many countries, having mixed much with men and women at home and abroad, Errington thought it time to take his place in the great commonwealth—­to marry, and to try for a seat in the House of Commons.  He therefore selected Lady Alice Mordaunt.  She was rather pretty, graceful, gentle, and quite at his service.  He really like her in a sort of fatherly way; he looked forward with quiet pleasure to making her very happy, and did not doubt she would in his hands mature into a sufficient companion, for though Errington was not naturally a selfish man, his life and training disposed him to look on those connected with him as on the whole created for him.

He had been absent for two or three days, having gone up to town to visit his father, who had been somewhat seriously unwell, and as he rode toward Castleford he gave more thought than usual to his young fiancee.  In truth, a visit to Colonel Ormonde was a great bore to him.  He had nothing in common with the Colonel, whose pig-headed conservatism jarred on Errington’s broader views, while his stories and reminiscences were exceedingly uninteresting, and sometimes worse.  Mrs. Ormonde’s small coquetries, her airs and graces, were equally unattractive to him.  Still it was well to have Lady Alice at Castleford, within easy reach, while there was so much to occupy his time and attention in the country.  As soon as he was sure of his election he would hasten his marriage, and perhaps get the honey-moon over in time to take his seat while there was still a month or two of the session unexpired.