The Irish standard., 1908-06-27
CHAPTER I.

AOSO1 4u1LS hIicW IlUW IL was CQat
l took Vincent with me, except that we
both needed holiday at the same
time and the same kind of holiday ap-
pealed to us both. Vincents whole
name and title is Lord Wilfred Vim
cent, for he is the younger son of the
old duke of Totten. Men of his own
age call him Freddy" but l call him
Vincent or Wilfred, because 1 con-
slider curtailed appellations undignified.
Vincent is an artist-that is, he calls
himself one; his friends call him "a
dabbler In art" He doesn't really go
In for 1t seriously, you know, but he
did little sketches Of cows and that
sort of thing rather we'll, l fancy. So
we agreed that our aim was to find
a little old village, far away from
London, and get rooms in some old
farmhouse. My idea was that Vincent
would go out and paint the COWS while
would lie in the hammock and the
old lady would bring me buttermilk.
Wilfred had an idea that he, too,
would like to spend a good bit of his
time in hammock, but with this diff
ference, that the old lady's beautiful
daughter was to bring him lemonade.
But I pointed out to him that the
chief reason that / was running away
from town was to get rid of the
debutantes, and therefore he'd have to
leave the fair ones out of our air
castle.
Our plan was just to bask in Nature,
and we had six weeks to bask in. The
foreign Office doesn't seem to require
much Of Wilfred's time and he doesn't
do anything else except "dabble." OF
course, being a younger son, he hasn't
a shilling of his own, but the old duke
makes him comfortable allowance,
because he dotes on Wilfred as much
as he detests his eldest son, Edmund,
the heir to the dukedom. So, when
Vincent complained of feeling "all run
down" 1t was easy for him to get six
weeks off, although, as l tell him, he
has been getting six weeks off" ever
since he left Oxford, two years ago.
He isn't "a yet.
Nevertheless, Vincent is one Of the
best little chaps in the world. I don't
mean that he is understood for he
stands six feet two in his stockings;
but is so good natured, so jolly and
amiable and straight-well-jus natur.
ally nice, don't you lknow-that every.
body is "just crazy about him." as the
American girl met last summer used
to say, and all the men, young and old
alike, have gotten to calling him Git
tie Vincent" or FREDDY" from his
Elton days, just by way Of endearment.
OF course, I'm much older than Vim.
cent-to be more exact, there's mat
ter of IL or Is years between us-but
I must say I can't help being drawn
to him. I've known him ever since he
was born, and then, you see, we're
both Oxford men, belong to the same
clubs, and, of course, Terhune Is as
old name as Vincent, even if it hasn't
any handle to it, and, If do say 1T,
there's never a dinner given in Lon
don town that Archibald Terhune is
not invited. But, somehow, in this, my
tenth season, became utterly weary
of the limelight, the dinners, the balls,
the matchmaking mamnas (for l am
an "eligible blackberry, and, most of
all, the debutantes, with their edu-
Gated smiles and cultivated stares. 1
felt that must flee from London to
escape, and thus, as Vincent is al
ways ready for holiday, we found
ourselves one fine day we'll started on
our jurney. We had taken the noon
train for Kingsbridge, and changing
there were to go on to Cuppstone,
which an artist friend of Vincent's had
recommended to us as just the place
we were looking for.
"Jolly lark this" said Vincent, after
we had been some time on our way;
"only hope Cuppstone and Damer's
farm will be what we want. Graham
cracked it up to the Skies"
9Th at's the trouble I complained:
"when things talked up too much
it's sure to disappoint one.'
'Wait till you see it, old pessimist"
said Vincent, with cheerful grin.
cts got cows which provide butter
milk and art, and I've got some lem
ons in my grip for the lemonade. The
ONLY LQlQR IudL llOupiSo INV ~ SAAS
landlady's beautiful daughter. I'm
afraid she'll be minus quantity"
Then he put his feet across on my
side of the carriage and lit nasty,
smelly, old pipe. That's the worst
of Vincent; he's SO young he doesn't
think how thing like that may get
on ones nerves. But l wouldn't hurt
his feelings for anything, and so had
to let him smoke.
About three o'clock in the after
noon. when we had left the comfort
able carriages Of the main line for
the ramshackle ones of the branch
line. we came to sudden stop in the
center of big stretch of meadow
land. A few miles away we could see
the spires and roofs of little village.
and. what was more noticeable, big
castle, that stood on higher ground
some distance above the town. but
not far from where the train had
stopped. l asked the guard what the
hn thar