Squire Percival was a different kind of man; he could follow the hounds all day and dance all night.

The hunt had not a rider like him; he balked at neither hedge, gate, nor water; a right gallant, courageous, honorable, affectionate gentleman as ever Yorkshire bred, and she's bred lots of superfine ones.

What ever made him get into such a mess with his estate?
Your grandfather thought him as straight as a string in money matters." "You said just now he was careless and extravagant." "Well, I did him wrong, and I'm sorry for it.

How did he manage to need eighty thousand pounds ?" "It is rather a pitiful story, grandmother, but he never once blamed those who were in the wrong.

His son for many years had been the real manager of the estate.