Priory park; we
passed through it, crossed the road, and entered, by a farm-gate, on to
Fillingford territory. "I almost always come here," she told me.
"There's such a splendid gallop. Now and then I meet Lord Lacey, and we
have a race."

Not being an habitual party to these excursions--it was my usual lot to
lie in wait for the early post and reduce the letters to order for our
after-breakfast session--I had seen and heard nothing of her encounters
with young Lacey. I conceived that the two houses were still on the
terms of distant civility to which Lady Sarah's passive resistance had
endeavored to confine them. A formal call from each lady on the other--a
no less formal visit to Jenny from Lord Fillingford (who left his son's
card also)--there it had seemed to stop, the Mayor of Catsford and the
Memorial Hall perhaps in some degree contributing to that result. Fine
mornings a-horseback and youthful blood had, however, sapped Lady
Sarah's defenses. I was glad--and I envied Lacey. He had much to be
thankful for. True, they talked of sad financial troubles at Fillingford
Manor, but you may hear many a fine gentleman rail at the pinch of
poverty, as he pours, in no ungenerous measure, his own champagne down
his throat at half-a-crown a glass. Perhaps at Fillingford that luxury
did not rule every day; but at any rate Lacey had a good horse to
ride--to say nothing of pleasant company.

Well, all he had he deserved, if only because he looked what he was so
splendidly. If Providence, or nature, or society makes a scheme of
things, it is surely a merit in us poor units to fit into it? Let others
attack or defend the country gentleman. Anyhow, if you are one, look it!
And for such an one as does look it I have a heartfelt admiration, from
the crown of his head to the sole of his foot--with a special affection
for his legs in perfect boots and breeches. Young Lacey was such a
consummate type; I did not wonder that Jenny's ever liberal appreciation
smiled beams of approval as he appeared over the crest of a rising
hillock and rode on to meet us. Excellent, too, were the lad's manners;
he appeared really glad to see me--which in the nature of the case he
hardly can have been in his heart.

"I'm going to win this morning!" he cried to Jenny. "I feel like winning
to-day!"

"Why to-day? You don't win very often."

"That's true," he said to me. "Miss Driver's won two to my one, regular.
At sixpence a race I owe her three shilli