Lord Loudwater came to lunch in a better temper than that in which he had left the breakfast-table.

He had ridden eight miles round and about his estate, and the ride had soothed that seat of the evil humours--his liver.

Lady Loudwater had been careful to shut Melchisidec in her boudoir; James Hutchings had no desire in the world to see his master's florid face or square back, and had instructed Wilkins and Holloway, the first and second footmen, to wait at table.

Lord Loudwater therefore could, without any ruffling of his sensibilities, give all his thought to his food, and he did.

The cooking at the castle was always excellent.