brother." He had been driven to further anger by this reference to
one man whom he respected, and to another whom he despised.

"Don't say that, sir."

"What am I to say?"

"Let him be an attache, or something of that sort."

"Do you believe it possible that he should pass any examination?
I think that my children between them will bring me to the grave.
You had better go now. I suppose you will want to be--at the races
again." Then the young man crept out of the room, and going to his
own part of the house shut himself up alone for nearly an hour. What
had he better do to give his father some comfort? Should he abandon
racing altogether, sell his share of Prime Minister and Coalition,
and go in hard and strong for committees, debates, and divisions?
Should he get rid of his drag, and resolve to read up parliamentary
literature? He was resolved upon one thing at any rate. He would
not go to the Oaks that day. And then he was resolved on another
thing. He would call on Lady Mab Grex and ask her advice. He felt so
disconsolate and insufficient for himself that he wanted advice from
someone whom he could trust.

He found Tifto, Dolly Longstaff, and one or two others at the
stables, from whence it was intended that the drag should start. They
were waiting, and rather angry because they had been kept waiting.
But the news, when it came, was very sad indeed. "You wouldn't mind
taking the team down and back yourself; would you, Dolly?" he said to
Longstaff.

"You aren't going!" said Dolly, assuming a look of much heroic
horror.

"No;--I am not going to-day."

"What's up?" asked Popplecourt.

"That's rather sudden; isn't it?" asked the Major.

"Well; yes; I suppose it is sudden."

"It's throwing us over a little, isn't it?"

"Not that I see. You've got the trap and the horses."

"Yes;--we've got the trap and the horses," said Dolly, "and I vote we
make a start."

"As you are not going yourself, perhaps I'd better drive your
horses," said Tifto.

"Dolly will take the team," said his Lordship.

"Yes;--decidedly. I will take the team," said Dolly. "There isn't a
deal of driving wanted on the road to Epsom, but a man should know
how to hold his reins." This of course gave rise to some angry words,
but Silverbridge did not stop to hear them.

The poor Duke had no one to whom he could go for advice and
consolation. When his son left him he turned to his newspaper, and
tried to read it--in vain. His mind was