he Derby Day. Another
guest had also been expected, the reason for whose non-appearance
must be explained somewhat at length. Lord Gerald Palliser, the
Duke's second son, was at this time at Cambridge,--being almost as
popular at Trinity as his brother had been at Christ Church. It was
to him quite a matter of course that he should see his brother's
horse run for the Derby. But, unfortunately, in this very year a
stand was being made by the University pundits against a practice
which they thought had become too general. For the last year or two
it had been considered almost as much a matter of course that a
Cambridge undergraduate should go to the Derby as that a Member
of Parliament should do so. Against this three or four rigid
disciplinarians had raised their voices,--and as a result, no young
man up at Trinity could get leave to be away on the Derby pretext.

Lord Gerald raged against the restriction very loudly. He at first
proclaimed his intention of ignoring the college authorities
altogether. Of course he would be expelled. But the order itself
was to his thinking so absurd,--the idea that he should not see his
brother's horse run was so extravagant,--that he argued that his
father could not be angry with him for incurring dismissal in so
excellent a cause. But his brother saw things in a different light.
He knew how his father had looked at him when he had been sent away
from Oxford, and he counselled moderation. Gerald should see the
Derby, but should not encounter that heaviest wrath of all which
comes from a man's not sleeping beneath his college roof. There was
a train which left Cambridge at an early hour, and would bring him
into London in time to accompany his friends to the race-course;--and
another train, a special, which would take him down after dinner, so
that he and others should reach Cambridge before the college gates
were shut.

The dinner at the Beargarden was very joyous. Of course the state of
the betting in regard to Prime Minister was the subject generally
popular for the night. Mr. Lupton came in, a gentleman well known in
all fashionable circles, parliamentary, social, and racing, who was
rather older than his company on this occasion, but still not so
much so as to be found to be an incumbrance. Lord Glasslough too,
and others joined them, and a good deal was said about the horse.
"I never keep these things dark," said Tifto. "Of course he's an
uncertain horse."

"Most horses are,"