Mr Abbott is in tho stablos smoking and lecturing the grooms, when Geoffrey resigns his horse to the boy who caters to him. Ho nods affectionately to his etop-son. It has been said he is fond and proud of him— proud, after an absurd fashion, that the lad is a gentleman by birth and breeding, while resenting at the same time the grove reserve tho youth maintains between thorn. Bub Geoffrey is in a grateful and gentle mood at this moment; moreovor, he is in the character of a suppliant, and roturns his step-fathor'B greeting with cordiality.
'I've been deucodly put out just now, Geoff, my boy,' Mr Abbotb says, quitting the stables with him ; ' not so much with these fellows, though they are a sot of lazy dogß, who shirk work whenever thoy can. But I was down at Cooper's this aftornoon, and the way that place is going to wreck and ruin under that shiftless lob is enough to turn a man's hair grey. I gave old Job a bit of my mind, lot me toll you, and out they go next quarter day, by the Lord Harry! Mind you, Gooff, when you're master hero, keep no tenants on your land like the Coopers. Out with 'em, nock and crop !'

'Cooper is not a model farmer,' says Geoffrey, coolly, ' but in comparison with another of your tenants, his place is a paradise. I mean Slcaford's—tho Red Farm.'

A dark frown bends Mr Abbott's browe. He takes out his cigar and looks at the boy.
