"
"It isn't a hind, is it?" inquired Lord Rockminster, doubtfully.
"A hind of ten points!" Lionel said, with a laugh, as he pushed his way
through. "Well, I must see if I can have a hot bath to soften my bones."
"My good fellow, it's waiting for you," his host said. "I told Jeffreys
the moment I saw you coming down the strath. We'll put back dinner a
bit; but be as quick as you can."
At the same moment there appeared a white-draped figure on the landing
above, leaning over the balustrade.
"What have you done, Mr. Moore?" called down the well-known voice of
Honnor Cunyngham.
"I've got a stag," he said, looking up with a good deal of
satisfaction--or gratitude, perhaps?--in his eyes.
"How many points?"
"Ten."
"Well done! Didn't I tell you you would get a stag?"
"It's all owing to the lucky sixpence you gave me," he said; and she
laughed, as she turned away to go to her room.
After a welcome bath he dressed as quickly as he could for
dinner--dressed so quickly, indeed, that he thought he was entitled to
glance at the outside of the pile of letters awaiting him there on the
mantelpiece. He had a large correspondence, from all kinds of people;
and when he was in a hurry this brief scrutiny of the address was all he
allowed himself; he usually could tell if there was anything of unusual
importance.
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