A few words were said about the hunting, but
Mountjoy had not hunted this winter. There were a few also of greater
interest about the shooting. The shooting was of course still the
property of the old man, and in the early months had, without many words
spoken, become, as it were, an appanage of the condition of life to
which Augustus aspired; but of late Mountjoy had assumed the command.
"You found plenty of pheasants here, I suppose," Augustus remarked.
"Well, yes; not too many. I didn't trouble myself much about it. When I
saw a pheasant I shot it. I've been a little troubled in spirit, you
know."
"Gambling again, I heard."
"That didn't trouble me much. Merton can tell you that we've had a
sick-house."
"Yes, indeed," said Merton. "It hasn't seemed to be a time in which a
man would think very much of his pheasants."
"I don't know why," said Augustus, who was determined not to put up with
the rebuke implied in the doctor's words. After that there was nothing
more said between them till they all went to their separate apartments.
"Don't contradict him," his aunt said to him the next morning, "and if
he reprimands you, acknowledge that you have been wrong."
"That's hard, when I haven't been wrong.
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