Such had been the Dales of Allington, time out of mind, and such in all respects would have been the Christopher Dale of our time, had he not suffered two accidents in his youth.  He had fallen in love with a lady who obstinately refused his hand, and on her account he had remained single; that was his first accident.  The second had fallen upon him with reference to his father’s assumed wealth.  He had supposed himself to be richer than other Dales of Allington when coming in upon his property, and had consequently entertained an idea of sitting in Parliament for his county.  In order that he might attain this honour he had allowed himself to be talked by the men of Hamersham and Guestwick out of his old family politics, and had declared himself a Liberal.  He had never gone to the poll, and, indeed, had never actually stood for the seat.  But he had come forward as a liberal politician, and had failed; and, although it was well known to all around that Christopher Dale was in heart as thoroughly conservative as any of his forefathers, this accident had made him sour and silent on the subject of politics, and had somewhat estranged him from his brother squires.

In other respects our Christopher Dale was, if anything, superior to the average of the family.  Those whom he did love he loved dearly.  Those whom he hated he did not ill-use beyond the limits of justice.  He was close in small matters of money, and yet in certain family arrangements he was, as we shall see, capable of much liberality.  He endeavoured to do his duty in accordance with his lights, and had succeeded in weaning himself from personal indulgences, to which during the early days of his high hopes he had become accustomed.  And in that matter of his unrequited love he had been true throughout.  In his hard, dry, unpleasant way he had loved the woman; and when at least he learned to know that she would not have his love, he had been unable to transfer his heart to another.  This had happened just at the period of his father’s death, and he had endeavoured to console himself with politics, with what fate we have already seen.  A constant, upright, and by no means insincere man was our Christopher Dale,—­thin and meagre in his mental attributes, by no means even understanding the fullness of a full man, with power of eye-sight very limited in seeing aught which was above him, but yet worthy of regard in that he had realised a path of duty and did endeavour to walk therein.  And, moreover, our Mr Christopher Dale was a gentleman.

Such in character was the squire of Allington, the only regular inhabitant of the Great House.  In person, he was a plain, dry man, with short grizzled hair and thick grizzled eyebrows.  Of beard, he had very little, carrying the smallest possible grey whiskers, which hardly fell below the points of his ears.  His eyes were sharp and expressive, and his nose was straight and well formed,—­as was also his chin.  But the nobility of his face