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The Marquess of Dorchester, who neither knew the nae nor cared, looked about the dark, shabby taproonored everyone It was possible he had not even heard the question or noticed the hush His brother, hted by any novelty that presented itself, nodded aeneral and asked the inevitable question

“And what entertainments would those be?” he asked

It was all the encourageathered there needed They were about to celebrate the end of the harvest with contests in everything under the sun—singing, fiddle playing, dancing, ar, to name a few There were to be races for the children and pony rides and contests in needlework and cooking for the woarden produce, of course, and prizes for the best There was going to be so one could wish for upon which to spend one’s arden produce and the wo There was to be a grand feast in the church hall in the late afternoon before general dancing in the evening All the proceeds froo into the fund for the church roof

The church roof apparently leaked like a sieve whenever there was a good rain, and only five or six of the peere safe to sit upon They got hty crowded on a wet day

“Not that so,” someone offered

“Some of them pray all week for rain on Sunday,” someone else added

André Lauffaw that succeeded these witticisms “Perhaps ill stay an hour or two to watch so, did you say? And arht even try a bout myself”

All eyes turned upon his companion, who had neither spoken nor shown any spark of interest in all the supposedly irresistible delights the day held in store

They offered a marked contrast to the beholder, these two brothers There was a gap of ales, but it was not just a contrast in years Marcel Lamarr, Marquess of Dorchester, was tall, well forant, and austerely handso at the teh cheekbones and a somewhat hawkish nose and thin lips His eyes were dark and hooded He looked upon the world with cynical disdain, and the world looked back upon hi upon fear He had a reputation as a hard ladly or at all He also had a reputation for hard living and deep ga other vices He was reputed to have left behind a string of brokenheartedthe course of his almost forty years As for unmarried ladies and their aiven up hope of netting hilance from those dark eyes of his could freeze even thethe the flames of the rumor that he lacked either a heart or a conscience, and he did nothing to disabuse them of such a notion

André Lahtly broader, fairer of hair and coenial of countenance than his brother He liked people, and people generally liked him He was always ready to be a about where that amusement came from At present he was charmed by these cheerful country folk and the siht He would be perfectly happy to delay their journey by an hour or three—they had started out daly at his brother and drew breath to speak He was forestalled