ur breakfast," said the father. Then Lord
Silverbridge did sit down and poured himself out a cup of tea. There
was no servant in the room, and he dreaded to ring the bell. "Is
there anything you want?" asked the Duke. There was a small dish
of fried bacon on the table, and some cold mutton on the sideboard.
Silverbridge, declaring that he had everything that was necessary,
got up and helped himself to the cold mutton. Then again there was
silence, during which the Duke crunched his toast and made an attempt
at reading the newspaper. But, soon pushing that aside, he again took
up Mr. Harnage's letter. Silverbridge watched every motion of his
father as he slowly made his way through the slice of cold mutton.
"It seems that Gerald is to be sent away altogether."

"I fear so, sir."

"He has profited by your example at Oxford. Did you persuade him to
come to these races?"

"I am afraid I did."

"Though you knew the orders which had been given?"

"I thought it was meant that he should not be away the night."

"He had asked permission to go to the Derby and had been positively
refused. Did you know that?"

Silverbridge sat for some moments considering. He could not at first
quite remember what he had known and what he had not known. Perhaps
he entertained some faint hope that the question would be allowed to
pass unanswered. He saw, however, from his father's eye that that was
impossible. And then he did remember it all. "I suppose I did know
it."

"And you were willing to imperil your brother's position in life, and
my happiness, in order that he might see a horse, of which I believe
you call yourself part owner, run a race?"

"I thought there would be no risk if he got back the same night. I
don't suppose there is any good in my saying it, but I never was so
sorry for anything in all my life. I feel as if I could go and hang
myself."

"That is absurd,--and unmanly," said the Duke. The expression of
sorrow, as it had been made, might be absurd and unmanly, but
nevertheless it had touched him. He was severe because he did not
know how far his severity wounded. "It is a great blow,--another
great blow! Races! A congregation of all the worst blackguards in the
country mixed with the greatest fools."

"Lord Cantrip was there," said Silverbridge; "and I saw Sir Timothy
Beeswax."

"If the presence of Sir Timothy be an allurement to you, I pity you
indeed. I have nothing further to say about it. You have ruined your