ifle. I must tell my father. He'll find
the money."

"There is no doubt about that."

"He will. But I feel at present that I would rather change places
with the poorest gentleman I know than have to tell him. I have done
with races, Lupton."

"If so, this will have been a happy day for you. A man in your
position can hardly make money by it, but he may lose so much! If a
man really likes the amusement,--as I do,--and risks no more than
what he has in his pocket, that may be very well."

"At any rate I have done with it."

Nevertheless he went to see the race run, and everybody seemed to be
touched with pity for him. He carried himself well, saying as little
as he could of his own horse, and taking, or affecting to take, great
interest in the race. After the race he managed to see all those to
whom he had lost heavy stakes,--having to own to himself, as he did
so, that not one of them was a gentleman to whom he should like to
give his hand. To them he explained that his father was abroad,--that
probably his liabilities could not be settled till after his father's
return. He however would consult his father's agent and would
then appear on settling-day. They were all full of the blandest
courtesies. There was not one of them who had any doubt as to getting
his money,--unless the whole thing might be disputed on the score of
Tifto's villany. Even then payment could not be disputed, unless it
was proved that he who demanded the money had been one of the actual
conspirators. After having seen his creditors he went away up alone
to London.

When in London he went to Carlton Terrace and spent the night in
absolute solitude. It had been his plan to join Gerald for some
partridge-shooting at Matching, and then to go yachting till such
time as he should be enabled to renew his suit to Miss Boncassen.
Early in November he would again ask her to be his wife. These
had been his plans. But now it seemed that everything was changed.
Partridge-shooting and yachting must be out of the question till this
terrible load was taken off his shoulders. Soon after his arrival at
the house two telegrams followed him from Doncaster. One was from
Gerald. "What is all this about Prime Minister? Is it a sell? I am so
unhappy." The other was from Lady Mabel,--for among other luxuries
Mrs. Montacute Jones had her own telegraph-wire at Killancodlem. "Can
this be true? We are all so miserable. I do hope it is not much."
From which he learned th