Yes;--he liked Isabel
Boncassen. But how different was that liking from a desire that
she should be bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh!
CHAPTER 62
The Brake Country
'What does your father mean to do about Trumpington Wood?' That
was the first word from Lord Chiltern after he had shaken hands
with his guest.
'Isn't it all right yet?'
'All right? No! How can a wood like that be all right without a
man about the place who knows anything of the nature of a fox? In
your grandfather's time--'
'My great-uncle you mean.'
'Well--your great-uncle!--they used to trap the foxes there. There
was a fellow named Fothergill who used to come there for shooting.
Now it is worse than ever. Nobody shoots there because there is
nothing to shoot. There isn't a keeper. Every scamp is allowed to
go where he pleases, and of course there isn't a fox in the whole
place. My huntsman laughs at me when I ask him to draw it.' As
the indignant Master of the Brake Hounds said this the very fire
flashed from his eyes.
'My dear,' said Lady Chiltern expostulating, 'Lord Silverbridge
hasn't been in the house above half an hour.
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