He was a slight built, wiry man, about fifty, with iron-grey hair and beard,--who seemed to have no trouble in life, and to desire but few pleasures.

Nothing could be more regular than the course of his days, and nothing more idle.

He breakfasted at eleven, smoked and read till the afternoon, when he rode for an hour or two; then he dined, read again, smoked again, and went to bed.

In September and October he shot, and twice in the year, as has been before stated, went away to seek a little excitement elsewhere.

He seemed to be quite contented with his lot, and was never heard to speak an angry word to any one.