ajor Tifto and the Duke

"I beg your pardon, Silverbridge," said the Major, entering the room,
"but I was looking for Longstaff."

"He isn't here," said Silverbridge, who did not wish to be
interrupted by his racing friend.

"Your father, I believe?" said Tifto. He was red in the face but
was in other respects perhaps improved in appearance by his liquor.
In his more sober moments he was not always able to assume that
appearance of equality with his companions which it was the ambition
of his soul to achieve. But a second glass of whisky-and-water would
always enable him to cock his tail and bark before the company with
all the courage of my lady's pug. "Would you do me the great honour
to introduce me to his Grace?"

Silverbridge was not prone to turn his back upon a friend because he
was low in the world. He had begun to understand that he had made
a mistake by connecting himself with the Major, but at the club he
always defended his partner. Though he not unfrequently found himself
obliged to snub the Major himself, he always countenanced the little
Master of Hounds, and was true to his own idea of "standing to a
fellow." Nevertheless he did not wish to introduce his friend to
his father. The Duke saw it all at a glance, and felt that the
introduction should be made. "Perhaps," said he, getting up from his
chair, "this is Major Tifto."

"Yes;--my Lord Duke. I am Major Tifto."

The Duke bowed graciously.

"My father and I were engaged about private matters," said
Silverbridge.

"I beg ten thousand pardons," exclaimed the Major. "I did not intend
to intrude."

"I think we had done," said the Duke. "Pray sit down, Major Tifto."
The Major sat down. "Though now I bethink myself, I have to beg your
pardon;--that I a stranger should ask you to sit down in your own
club."

"Don't mention it, my Lord Duke."

"I am so unused to clubs, that I forgot where I was."

"Quite so, my Lord Duke. I hope you think that Silverbridge is
looking well?"

"Yes;--yes. I think so."

Silverbridge bit his lips and turned his face away to the door.

"We didn't make a very good thing of our Derby nag the other day.
Perhaps your Grace has heard all that?"

"I did hear that the horse in which you are both interested had
failed to win the race."

"Yes, he did. The Prime Minister, we call him, your Grace,--out of
compliment to a certain Ministry which I wish it was going on to-day
instead of the seedy lot we've got in. I thi