ficing all loveliness to greed— if you mean that," said Lady Hilda, with coldest disdain. "The life here has still the old Theocritan idyllic beauty, thank heaven."
"Theocritus? Oh, I know; I never could construe him; but I do know a straight furrow and decently kept land when I see it. But I say, you know, I don't want to be officious or anything; but do you think it's wise to see so very much of him? You know he's an Italian, and I dare say hasn't a bit of principle, nor a penny in his pocket."
The hazel eyes of the Lady Hilda flashed golden beams of wrath.
"How very grateful of you!—when he has entertained you to the best of his ability, and went out of his way to find sport for you, very little to his own pleasure, moreover, for I can assure you his soul does not lie in his gun-barrel!"
"I don't want to say anything against him," murmured Lord Clairvaux, who was the most grateful and most just of mortals. "He was very kind and courteous, and all that—and I
