At least, I never hear of it." Felix murmured: "Tod is a well in the desert." To which deep saying Clara made no reply, not indeed understanding in the least what it might signify.
That evening, when Alan, having had his fill of billiards, had left the smoking-room and gone to bed, Felix remarked to Stanley: "I say, what sort of people are these Mallorings ?" Stanley, who was settling himself for the twenty minutes of whiskey, potash, and a Review, with which he commonly composed his mind before retiring, answered negligently: "The Mallorings?
Oh! about the best type of landowner we've got." "What exactly do you mean by that ?" Stanley took his time to answer, for below his bluff good-nature he had the tenacious, if somewhat slow, precision of an English man of business, mingled with a certain mistrust of 'old Felix.' "Well," he said at last, "they build good cottages, yellow brick, d--d ugly, I must say; look after the character of their tenants; give 'em rebate of rent if there's a bad harvest; encourage stock-breedin', and machinery--they've got some of my ploughs, but the people don't like 'em, and, as a matter of fact, they're right--they're not made for these small fields; set an example goin' to church; patronize the Rifle Range; buy up the pubs when they can, and run 'em themselves; send out jelly, and let people over their place on bank holidays.

Dash it all, I don't know what they don't do.

Why ?" "Are they liked ?" "Liked?
No, I should hardly think they were liked; respected, and all that.

Malloring's a steady fellow, keen man on housing, and a gentleman; she's a bit too much perhaps on the pious side.

They've got one of the finest Georgian houses in the country.