TIE & TRICK,

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2352, 6 August 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

TIE & TRICK,

BY HAWLEY SMART,

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Author ok “Bree/.ie Lasgtos," “Broken - Bonus,” “Sogiai. Sinners,” “The Great Tontine,” “At Facet,” &c. t &c.

CHAPTER I.

CROSSING THE STRAITS. A cROS.s-cnomNO aea and a fresh sou’wester sweeping boisterously up channel, a day to make a bad sailor shiver and be profoundly thankful that necessity did not compel him to cross “the Straits.” The Calais boat bobs like a cork as it ploughs its way across the capricious, irritable bit of water that lies between it and Dover. A grey November day, presaging that winter is at hand and conveying grim warning that another year is neat struck from the brief span of our Jives, by no means an inspiriting day for •a man to look out upon who is conscious •of misused opportunics and that be has 3>een wasting much money on his autumn holiday ; moodily reflecting too that longsuffering creditors in a few weeks will again anxiously clamour for settlement of ♦heir accounts. \ tall soldicr-like fellow is Fred Hammerto.n h® Btu nds, enveloped in a huge ulster lt*<i»»D£f against the lee side of the entrance to' the saloon stairs, and painfully uncons>'^ ou * that he has spent the last two mont> in tho most unprofitable fashion. It is i?ot that ho has any remorse, far from itnothing but an angry feeling of dis'ippoi.ntmont pervades his mind. Ho is simply i' gambler returning from an unsuccessful campaign. Commencing life in a cavalry regiment, and with a thousand or twelve hundred a year of bis own, Hammortou bud about as pleasant a start in life as any young fellow of good family need wish for, but he was cursed with extravagant desires and a spirit of self-indulgence. When you deny yourself nothing it is pOMlble to prove tho insufficiency of any moderate income, and Fred Hammerton had for tho last few years led a somewhathand-to-mouth existence. 1 Your country gives us a grim greeting, ray friend,’ growled his companion in°English, which, though excellent, had • a slightly foreign accent. ‘ It is most ■detestably cold for the time of tho year. I hate your sea, too; I never want to •smoke when I am at sea—a sure sign it •disagrees with me,’ ‘ Yes, I suppose it does, though you’re not a had sailor; but when you can't face your cigarette, Count, there's certainly something amiss with you.’ ‘ It is a good many years siuco I was in London,’ rejoined the Count, musingly ; •and then, ma/oi, it was about tho only place in Europe good for my health,' Hamrnertou looked hard at his companion, a slight, dark, wiry man, of medium height, whose usually well-waxed moustache was now unmistakably out of curl. Count Patrooeni was rather a mystery. Ho was rumoured to bo an Italian of pood family, who had been en. gaged in every Revolutionary movement ■on the continent almost from his boyhood, 110 was said to bayo had marvellous

escapes from tho dungeons of the Bourbons, anil even from tho executioner's bands; but no one could put all the shadowy gossip concerning him into circumstantial shape, and ihr Count was vague in tho extreme about his earlier adventures. At present he was known as a man of gentlemanly address, much addicted to play and mingling freely in a certain class of society. He had a largo and numerous, if not very select, circle of acquaintance, but still it was hinted that Patroccni was an adventurer. If he gambled there was no insinuation that he was amongst the wolves of the play-table, keenly alive to fattening on tho insular lambkin. Ho had, apparently, plenty of money, and displayed unmistakable ability to take care of it, but no undue desire to possess himself of that of his neighbour. In short, if ho played it was apparently as an amusement and not from greed of gain. Hammerton bad met him once or twice before on his visits to the continent, and this time it had ended in Patroceui accompanying him back to London.

1 Well, wo shall cut our stay in town short. It might have been good for your health last time you were there, but. it’s not a nice place in this sort of weather. Yon told mo you shoot; yon must come down and try your band at the Wrottsley pheasants. My uncle will bo delighted to see yon.’ 1 Lot ns hope so. I have done plenty of shooting in my own country, but we are near our deliverance,’ and as he spoke tlm packet glided under the lee of tho Admiralty Tier at Dover, and speedily commenced tho discharge of its small freight of miserable humanity. Green and pallid, these struggled into the train, only too thankful not to be called upon to wrestle with the Customs’ officials after the manner of former times, and buried their woes in tho recesses of the railway carriages. Our travellers took advantage of the slight halt at the Dover station to clash across at Hammerton’s suggestion to tho buffet, and there pull themselves together with a tolerably stiff dose of brandy and seltzer—it is only the young and uninstruoted that drink soda—and so much were the pair rehabilitated by this simple ami favourite remedy that the habitual cigar adorned their lips as the engine gave forth its final warning shriek of departure.

What motive had iuduceced Patroceui to volunteer to accompany him to England, was far beyond Hammerton’s conjecture. The Count had merely said it was bis whim to once more visit London, and had simply asked to be allowed to travel with him and profit by his superior knowledge of the city in regard to lodgings, hotels, or what not, and perhaps his dear friend knew one of the more liberal minded clubs to which it was possible to introduce a foreigner who, as he (Hammerton) ponld testify, had received admission to-,the cerclcs of Hombcrg, Nice, &c. People who knew the Count thoroughly, and they were few, would have told you very little of his life was uncalculated. What his motive might be was ever a problem difficult of solution, but he was distinctly not given to whims in the ordinary acceptance of the term. Hammerton, a tolerably easy-going man, was under two obligations to the Count; one, that of some slight pecuniary assistance ;of the other more anon. Hammerton smoked on it meditative silence. Both men were absorbed in their own thoughts and keen enjoyment of the tobacco which that malicious son’-wester had so long prohibited, to say nothing of not having the carriage to themselves, barring confidential conversation had they desired it. Hammerton—who had some time back found the duties of a profession, for which he had never felt any groat enthusiasm, too irksome for his pleasure-loving disposition—was revolving in his mind that that the time had at length arrived when the paying of what lie laid always considered his last card could no longer bo delayed. His cousin, Maud Eversley, was a very pretty girl, with thirty thousand pounds of her own, the fortune of her dead mother, which she came into positively when she came into positively when she came of age. Fred Hammerton had known her from her childhood, and had long ago settled that she would make him an excellent wife when circumstances made it expedient that ho would settle down, and Fred felt that circumstances had made it of late not only expedient but imperative that he should at all events settle.

He was not in love with his cousin, but they had always been capital friends, and he undoubtedly liked no other woman better. To people unaware of Fred tlammerton’s disposition and pursuits, the engagement would appear suitable enough. Tho young lady was in her twenty-first year, the gentleman some nine or ten years older, while the world generally could form no idea that Hammerton had run through the best part of his means and was a sorely-needed man, His mode of life gave no indication that he was in difficulties. Mon of his stamp never draw in their horns till the crash comes ; they neither attempt nor affect the economies whether it be in the matter of clothes, carriages, cigars, dry champagne or expenditure. In the use of ready money only are they wont to be reticent, reserving that strictly to meet such expenses as cannot possibly bo relegated to the ledger.

Fred Hammerton had found himself an orphan early in life, with his uncle Sir Jasper Eversley as his guardian, and Wrottsley Hall had been the homo of his boyhood. There ho had passed Ins holidays as a school boy, there he had passed much of his leave in tho days of Iris military life, and there his room had a hearty welcome remained to him still. He was a groat favourite with tho baronet, who did not heed vague rumours that sometimes reached nirn, to the effect that his nephew was in with a very fast set, most of whom were likely to come to infinate grief if they did not moderate tho pace at which they were living. Fred was a good all round sportsman, a fairly good man either to hounds or with a gun, and those wore virtues that stood high in Sir Jasper’s estimation. What matter if his nephew was a little wild, all young fellows with any spirit in them sowed their wild oats and were none the worse for it when they settled down, and the baronet chuckled with the remembrance that ho too had “ heard the chimes by midnight” and drunk and gambled a great deal more than was good for him in tho days when more than was good for him in the clays when William ~IV was king. Sir Jasper had not married till verging upon the forties, and it had been a matter of deep disappointment that no successor to Wrottsloy had been born to him; but his wife, to whom he was devotedly attached, presented him witli only one child, albeit they passed some fourteen or fifteen happy years together. The lawyers in their wisdom had settled Lady Eversley's thirty thousand pounds on her for her life, and at her death to bo divided between her children. All, of course, now centered in Maud. As for Wrottsley it was mostly entailed and would pass at Sir Jasper’s death to his younger brother, a clergyman holding a cemfortahlo living in a distant country.

Fred Hammerton knew from many a talk with Sir Jasper, that his uncle, although tlie subject was never openly broached between them, would bo well satisfied should ho win Maud for his wife, and make Wrottsley their home as long as Sir Jasper lived, and this, Fred Hammerton, in the plentitudo of his conceit and selfishness, thought would do

very nicely when it should suit his high ness to relinquish his liberty.

Patroceui could hardly have explained, bis motive in accompanying Hammerton to England, even if be would. It amounted simply to this ; he had obtained a hold over a man of birth and position, and it was a maxim of tho Count’s, whenever that happened, it was worth while to see what use you could make of him. It might be none, but it was very rarely that be did not accept a quid pro quo, or or, to use bis own expression, find music for them to dance to. Tire Continent was getting a little dull, be thought, except perhaps Paris. It would be as well to accompany Hammerton to his own country, to see him amongst his own bonds and acquaintance, and then he would be better able to judge what capabilities of usefulness bis dear friend pessessed. The Captain could, at all events, introduce him to English society to some extent, a privilege which he had not achieved upon Ids former visit, and he had heard so much. Perhaps he might win the heart of some blonde English .Madam or Miss, and a cynical smile curled Patroceui’s month as the thought crossed his mind, for though his manners were soft and polished enough, the boudoir had figured little midst the scenes in which his life had been chiefly passed, and love-tales received scant telling from Ids lips. Singing of bullet and ringing of sabre had been more familiar to his ears than the soft accents of a woman’s voice. He was more at home in the fierce battle of the card table than in tlie wiles and manuruvres of the saloon, and yet the man’s keen subtle intelligence and vast experience of life were calculated to enable Idm to hold his own in the latter with the most veteran intriguer. On arrival in Loudon the pair drove straight to Hammerton’s chambers, a luxurious set of rooms which quite admitted of entertaining a guest, and where it had been settled the Count should distal himself for a few days while he looked round for suitable accomodation for himself. Already his host wandered ruefully why he had asked him, and pondered somewhat moodily overt e rash promises he had made to introduce Idm to society and clubs when at Homburg. He was, as before said, under an obligation to him then, and like most men at such times somewhat profuse in gratitude. Tlu promise of these introhad seemed at the moment to mean nothing, but be bad been made to understand lately that they did not admit of retraction, and somehow it did not all seem quite so easy as it did at Hamburg. He had been told that the Count was a man of good Italian family, he had seen that Patroceui enjoyed the entree of the best —albeit somewhat hybrid-society of some three or four Continential wateringplates. But then, Hammerton was quite aware London demanded rather more than this demanded rather more than this before it admitted the stranger within its pale. Ah, well, this is all rapidly changing, the cordon gets looser year by year, the Paris who fretted at the date of my story are in the midst of the whirlpool now, and some years hence there will probably be but little embargo laid on those able, to pay for it—a mere question of whether you are rich enough to know. All this troubled Hammerton not a little ; clearly the first thing to be done was to write to his uncle and tell him that he proposed coming down immediately to help to shoot the covers, and ask if he might bring a friend with him, a foreign nobleman who has shown him groat courtesy during his trip abroad. Thera was no difficulty about this. He know well what Sir Jasper’s answer would bo— 11 Come by all means, my dear Fred, only too glad to see you, and any friend of yours is, as you know, heartily welcome,” and yet Hammerton felt a strange disinclination to introduce this man under his uncle’s roof. He could not account for it, it was nothing more than a hazy, undefined idea that it was not right to bring to VVrottsley any one of whose antecedents ho really knew next to nothing. He had no reason to suppose the Count anything but what bo represented himself. Patroccni had certainly been very kind to him, and he had no reason to doubt him, but he certainly did wish he had not promised this thing, and ho was puzzled to think how he had come to do it. Puzzled, forsooth 1 it was the soft, malleable mind pitted against the astute brain and will of iron. The ordinary hand grasping the velvet glove and grip of steel. From tho time he had swallowed the bait of assistance, the jaws of tho rat-trap had snapped upon him little as he wotted of it. However, there was no need to trouble himself about that just now. During the couple of days that would intervene before Sir Jasper’s answer could arrive it would be quite sufficient to dine Patroceui at one of his take him to a theatre, and perhaps introduce him to a few men in tho smok-ing-room, All this commits one to very little; those club smoking-rooms see queer attests at times, men who may be voted very amusing to smoko a cigar with now and again, but men whom the members have not the slightest disposition to see enrolled amongst themselves. ‘ Now, Count, that we have shaken the dust of travel from our persons,’ said Fred, as he entered the sitting-room, ‘the next thing is evidently to wash the raw sea air from our throat and to recuperate our selves for the abstinence , that abominable crossing usually inflicts. They cook decently at the Harlequin, and their champagne is unimpeachable, but they’re a volatile body and apt to be a little boisterous. At the Blenheim wo have oven bettor cookery, their claret is commendable, and tho quietude almost depressing. Which shall it be ?’ 1 At host your olimato is depressing enough. Let it be the Harlequin with light, life, and champagne,’ rejoined the Count, promptly. CHAPTER 11. WROTTSLEY. The breakfast hour at Wrottsley was an expansive ten for the commnity at large, although those who intended to hunt or shoot had to ho up betimes, and had disappeared beforo]the majority of tho ladies, at all events, gathered in the dining-room. A large low, one-storied house, with a ports cochere entering upon a double hall in its centre— the outer and smaller hall was decorated with many a ‘ head,’ trophies of the prowess of Sir Jasper in Scotch deer forests in his younger days, and divers other victims of his how and spear in the guise of fox brushes, stuffed birds, ifco., and was also strewn with the litter of rough overcoats, hats, caps, and walking sticks, rhat the hall of all country houses presents. The inner was very lofty, with a gallery running all round it, exhibited nothing but its dark-polished oak boards. From this hall doors opened in all directions. On tho ground floor to the drawing-rooms, billiard-room, dining room, &c.; on tho gallery to the bedrooms, lying on either side. In short the hulls formed the centra of the house, while the rooms lay in tho wings on either band. It was of no great antiquity, ontall the more comfortable for not dating further back than the commencement of the century. The apartments were lofty and spacious both above and below; tho inner hall too was just the. thing for an impromptu dance or for battledore on a wet day. The park, though not very large, was the very place to laze in summer, when the weather was behaving properly ; in short, altogether Wrottsloy

afforded the bemi \dcnl of country life tolerably good hunting and shooting, a well-peopled, pleasant neighbourhood, and a courteous high-bred host. But the glory of Wrottsley was its shrubberies. Shut off by a rabbit-proof wire fence the masses of laurels, rhododendrons, azaleas, &c., are thickly populated with game. In the later spring-time, tho broad green rides, walks imperfectly describe these fine velvety grass roads, arc alive with pheasants, whose burnished plumage glitters in the sunlight, the rabbits skim about in that frivolous volatile fashion to which their race seem incurably addicted ; sitting up on their hinds legs washing their faces, turning somersaults in their light-heartedness, pricking their cars in mock apprehension of lurking danger, and finally scuttling off in that state of fuss and bustle that seems to be their normal condition. Anon, a big hare comes lobbing down the ride with long stealthy strides, gravely intent upon his own immediate business, probably on this occasion the getting of Ida dinner, while the dying rays of the setting lord of day light up a sea of brilliant colour in the shrubberies, now glorious in the fulness of their bloom. But it is a very different scene that greets the sight this mild, muggy November morning; the trees are all bare, the flower garden, instead of a many-hued kaleidoscope, but a cemetery of nameless graves, as the dug up beds always appear to one in winter; the pale wintry sun is so far unsuccessful in his efforts to struggle through the mist; and the rabbits and hares seem to think it no time of year to be about in—a 'circumstance which the merciless thinning they were subjected to, according to the annual custom some two or three weeks back; perhaps a little contributes.

Standing on the terrace looking up the shrubberies, in earnest converse with a stout, thickset man, whose velveteen and broad corded breeches and garters proclaim him a gamekeeper of the old school, is a tall, slight, wellbuilt gentleman, with aquiline nose and clear grey eyes, who, in spite of grizzled hair and slightly furrowed brow, shows as yet no sign of decay. Just past the middle of his sixth decade, Sir Jasper’s figure is still upright as a dart, and if not quite so fast through the turnips in October as he once was, nor quite so dashing a rider to hounds as he was some few years back, his nerve is little impaired, and he is hard to beat yet at either of his favourite pursuits. If Sir Jasper passed the hot days of his youth in all that wild pandemonium that London life presented in the early days of the century, when play, profligacy, hard-drinking, cookfighting, and the prize ring were the chief diversions of men of fashion, yet he sickened betimes of the unhealthy life and betook himself to the purer pastimes of the country. Gradually his visits to the metropolis became fewer and shorter and amused him less. If his friends vote Jasper Eversley grown bucolic, and wonder if he calls those things boots, it is affectation on their part, for Eversley is as full of fun and spirits as ever he was, and he never dreamt of forsaking Hoby or having his buckskins made out of London. It was the era of top-boots and breeches remember. But with Sir Jasper it was otherwise, the town tattle had lost its savour, he detected a recurrence of the old anecdotes that he had laughed at years ago, the hoars were too late for him, he had forsworn play, and the whole thing bored him, so that when he married a pretty, thorough country girl, of country tastes, and daughter of an excellent country family, the metropolis saw little more of him. A few weeks about Epsom and Ascot dines amply sufficed for himself and his wife ; but even in his country attire, in his ordinary shooting jacket and round hat, Sir Jasper always wore the unmistakable caste of a London m an.

Although attired in the roughest of shooting suits he looks a gentleman, every inch of him, this November morning, as lie stands there discussing with Chatterson, his bead keeper, the destruction of his remaining pheasants with a gravity worthy of the solemnity of the occasion.

1 We should have six guns by rights. The Captain’s coining down and brings a foreign gentleman with him, that’s two, myselGthree, Mr Glanfield will be four, Mr Wheldrake, who I dare say will be back, fifth, and the sixth—but I must see about the sixth.’

‘Excuse me, Sir Jasper, it’d do no harm it you slipped in a seventh. There’s no depending on those furriners, they hit nothing except what they ought not to. If they kill a pheasant you can’t find the pieces ; they’re bound to let off a woodcock, but they’re death on foxes if they’ve a chance.’

‘ Come, Chatterson, wo’vc never had a foreigner here yet, what do you know about it ? ’

‘ Beg pardon, Sir Jasper. One knows a many things one’s never seen. I’ve never seen a young cuckoo jerk the young hedge-sparrows out of the nest, though I’ve seen a young stepmother clear her stepdaughters off pretty quick. I’m told these furriners are wonderful inexperienced in the use of firearms, as might be expected ; they use bows and arrows in their own country, mostly, I daresay. Jeffries, Mr Costello’s keeper, told me they’d a Markee there two years ago whose bag consisted of a fox, a boy, half a pheasant, and the fragments of a rabbit. Jeffries declared he shot at everything, and might have been credited with a couple of cows and a pig or two if he could have held straight.’ ‘ Jeffries was yarning when he told you that story. Anyway, yon know my maxim. I give my guests the best I can of everything, and I can do no more. But a sixth gun I must have, and whom to ask I can’t think.’

‘ What do yon say to Parson Pilcher ? He can shoot he can, Sir Jasper,’ exclaimed Chatterson, with all a keeper’s enthusiasm and appreciation of a good shot. ‘ Put him next that furrin gentleman and he’ll have most of his birds in the bag before the furrin gent (made up his mind to fire at ’em,. He’s perhaps a lettle, just a leetle jealousy but he’s a sweet shot is Mr Pilcher, quick as lightning and deadly as nightshade.’ This was old Chattcrson’s mild appraisement of the Rev. Bob Pilcher, as ho was usually somewhat irreverently called. One of the quickest, straightest, and most jealous shots in all England ; but a very keen sportsman and a most liberal man in the matter of fees, and thereby held in high esteem by Chatterson and all his race. ‘ Yes, I think he might do, Chattorson, I'll see about it. Meanwhile remember we’ll shoot the Bankside Hangers the day after to-morrow,’ and with this Sir Jasper turned to go into the house, and communicate the advent of his nephew to his daughter and the party generally, none of whom had appeared when the baronet finished his morning meal.

‘ Yes, he’s a bit jealous, Mr Pilcher, there’s no denying,’ muttered old Chattorson as his master disappeared. ‘ I mind his blowing that rabbit to bits almost between his toes last year sooner than leave it to anyone else.’ ‘Good morning, father,’ said a tall fair-haired girl, who was dawdling over her breakfast at the head of the table as the baronet entered the dining-room. ‘ Have you any news for us this dull morning f ‘Yes, and tell us,’ exclaimed a plumpi

vivacious brunette about: five-and-thirty, ‘ what yon propose for our amusement.’

Mrs Fullerton, the lady in question, was the widow of Sir Jasper’s younger brother, and spent the greater part of her time at VVorttslev. She was a great favourite both with her brother-in-law and niece, to tho latter of whom she often officiated as chaperon—a lady with plenty of life and go in her, and gossip said quite prepared to resume her chains should any eligible candidate present himself. ‘ Good morning to you all!’ exclaimed Sir Jasper, as be gaily saluted the company. ‘ News, Maudie,’ ho continued, crossing to bis daughter, and kissing her. 1 I’ve great news for yon, child. Fred will be down to-morrow to dinner. ‘ No ; you don’t say so,” replied that young lady. *I am glad. I haven’t seteyes on him for months, and he will have to give strict account of such unpardonable absence.’ ‘ Fred never troubles his head about his relations," said Mrs Fullerton, tartly, ‘ unless it quite suits him. I’m sure I never can get him to dine with mejin town when I went him.’ Fred Hammerton was not exactly the sort of man to chaperonekm aunt to ball or opera from whom he had no expectations, pretty through she might be. ‘ Well, Clare,’ said Sir Jasper, always anxious to smooth over the perpetual bickering, between his nephew and sister-in-law, “ a young man in London with anything like a start must be a precious must be a precious dull lot who dosen’t find bis engagement slate pretty full. 1 know in my day, except by accident, you weren’t likely to catch me under a fortnight.' 1 No, Jasper, and there were plenty of young women no doubt who would have thought the whole season not unprofitably spent in catching you. Fred’safool. I’ve always thought so. A man of his age who doson’t recognise tho advantage of cultivating an aunt in good London society, mas necessarily be wanting in sovoir vivre.’

‘ Quite wrong about that,’ said Mr Clan field, a man distinguished for the curtness of his remarks, and who at that moment was employed in devouring ham in the same short jerky manner he delivered his ideas. “Fred Hammerton knows the ropes as well as anyone, and is not likely to be blind to Mrs Fullerton’s charms or social influence, but a man about town has a good deal to do in is way, though no one could exactly define it as hard work.’

‘ No,’ replied Sir Jasper, laughingly, ‘ and yet hang me if the hardest work ever I did wasn’t the pursuit of pleasure, in my early manhood.’ ‘ Yes, getting about is a great deal of trouble in these days ; people crowd so. Seem to want to go everywhere.’ ‘That surely dosen’t affect you, Mr Glaufield,” said Mrs Fullerton. “ Whenever I meet you somebody or other’s always brought you.’ ‘ Somebody’s always kind to a poor waif like me.’rejoined Mr Canfield, contemplating an egg sternly through his eye-glass as if he suspected it of too great antiquity.

‘ By the way, Maudie, I forget to say there will be another room wanted.’ interposed Sir Jasper ‘ Fred is bringing a friend over with him, a Count Patroceui, whom he picked up abroad.” Patroceui !’ said Glanfield, meditatively. ‘ Do you know him ?’ enquired Mrs Fullerton.

‘ No, no ; I certainly don’t know him, but it strikes me I’vo heard the name.’

‘ He's very likely been in the country before,’ remarked the baronet, ‘ Fred talks of having promised him a day at the Wrottsley pheasants, and foreigners don’t take ranch to that sort of thing unless they have had a little training amongst us.’

‘ I have seen some of them shoot pretty tidily,” replied Glanfield. ‘ Patroceui ! Patroceni ! where the deuce did I hear the name !’

‘ Never mind,’ said Mrs Fullerton, ‘let ns hope ho will prove an acquisition. Foreigners are always so lively. By the tho way, I suppose he speaks English?’

‘I don’t think bo would have fraternised with Fred if lie didn’t,’ reply Maude, laughingly. ‘Of foreign tongues Fred is quite innocent.’ ‘Do yon think the Count can talk horse, Mr Glanfield ?’ asked the widow, demurely.

1 Of course not ; foreigners never understand anything about racing. Tho pursuit of this pastime seemed to be the end of Mr Glaufield’s(existence. It is not that he was an inveterate gambler, far from it ; he was simply a passionate lover of the turf and never missed any of the principal race meetings. Such modest wagering as be indulged in never caused him a moment’s uneasiness. But one curious thing about him was that he never could divest himself altogether of the taint of the racecourse. His dress was quite enough as also was his manner; but he could not keep the shibboleth of the betting ring and training stables out of his ordinary conversation. He and Mrs Fullerton were old'friends, and the widow perpetually twitted him on the subject, which he bore with the imperturable good humour that formed one of his principal characteristics.

Nobody had ever seen Glanfield out of temper, while there were several stories afloat of his marvellous snug froid under trying circumstances as well as of his eccentricities of expression. He had once characterised a pretty girl whom he honestly admired as ‘ Good looking, free from vice, and quiet, in crinoline.” It was meant as a high encomium, but the young lady was quite indignant when it came round to her ears, and was only to be pacified by the assurance that it was Algy Glandfield for handsome, welldressed and good tempered. Still he was a popular man, with a large and miscellaneous circle of acquaintances.

It was told of Glanfield also that in the case of an alarm of fi.ro at a theatre, he rose and cried in sonorous but deliberate tones, ‘Pray keep your seats, ladies and gentlemen ; the carriage won’t be round for half-an-bour.’ When complimented on his presence of mind afterwards, he explained that he meant the fire engines, and muttered something about ‘You know when a woman gets her best frock on what a state she gets in about a shower of rain. You see ’em on and Ascot Cup Day when the weather proves treacherous, ’ ‘ With Wheldrake also coming back to us to-morrow, we shall have the house full, and be strong enough to shoot any of the covers,’ remarked Sir Jasper, as the ladies rose and dawdled out of the room, in that dilatory fashion people usually do leave the breakfast table. ‘ What do you think of Mr Wheldrake, Maudie ?’ enquired Mrs Fullerton, as she and her niece crossed the hall together. ‘I like him,’ replied the girl, frankly, as the colour came slightly to her cheeks. But why do you ask ?’ 1 Because, my dear, I think ho seemed disposed to do a good deal more than like you. Ho strikes me as a very nice fellow and yon may go further and far worse. I My dear aunt, Mr Wheldrake has never said a word of that kind.”

' Fiddledee. He may not have asked yon to be his wife as yet, but he has said a good many words of that kind. He may not have made up his mind to marry, but don’t tell me he hasn’t let you know he thinks } r oa very nice and admires you extremely. Ah, you needn’t speak. I can read that it is so in your face.’

‘ You have no right to say such things,’

rejoined Maude, as she strove in vain to control her tell-tale cheeks.

1 Nonsense, child, there’s no harm in a young man falling in love with a young woman even if he does not intend to marry her, but in this case I prophcc the young woman will have her fate in her own hands before many days are over.’ And with a saucy nod to her nieee, Mrs Fullerton entered the morningroom, and sitting at the piano] played softly the old air of ‘Robert toi que j’aime.’ Maude glanced at her aunt for a moment, and then, with a menacing gesture of her hand, left the room. ’ Of course, she knew that Cyril Wheldrake had paid him a great deal of attention ever since she first met him at the Bottleby ball, about six weeks ago. They had stayed in one or two country houses together, and Maud must have been very blind if she has not observed that he lost no opportunity of throwing himself in her way. He had so far succeeded in engratiating himself with Sir Jasper as to having obtained an invitation to Wrottsley, from which she had just been summoned on business to his own home in an adjoining country for two or three days. IV alking up and down the terrace, lost in the enjoyment of his matutinal cigar, Mr Ganfield stopped suddenly, and taking his Cabana from his lips, ejaculated, for the benefit of two or three enquiring blackbirds, ‘ Patroceui .' by Gad that’s the name of tho Italian I saw break the bank at Monaco some five years ago.’ (To Itc continue'!.)