uld have gone dead against him if the public had seen him at
that moment. He looked haggard and anxious--and with good reason too.
His nervous system had suddenly forced itself on his notice, without the
slightest previous introduction, and was saying (in an unknown tongue),
Here I am!

Returning to the purely ornamental part of the grounds, Geoffrey
encountered one of the footmen giving a message to one of the gardeners.
He at once asked for the butler--as the only safe authority to consult
in the present emergency.

Conducted to the butler's pantry, Geoffrey requested that functionary to
produce a jug of his oldest ale, with appropriate solid nourishment in
the shape of "a hunk of bread and cheese."

The butler stared. As a form of condescension among the upper classes
this was quite new to him.

"Luncheon will be ready directly, Sir."

"What is there for lunch?"

The butler ran over an appetizing list of good dishes and rare wines.

"The devil take your kickshaws!" said Geoffrey. "Give me my old ale, and
my hunk of bread and cheese."

"Where will you take them, Sir?"

"Here, to be sure! And the sooner the better."

The butler issued the necessary orders with all needful alacrity. He
spread the simple refreshment demanded, before his distinguished guest,
in a state of blank bewilderment. Here was a nobleman's son, and a
public celebrity into the bargain, filling himself with bread and cheese
and ale, in at once the most voracious and the most unpretending
manner, at _his_ table! The butler ventured on a little complimentary
familiarity. He smiled, and touched the betting-book in his
breast-pocket. "I've put six pound on you, Sir, for the Race." "All
right, old boy! you shall win your money!" With those noble words the
honorable gentleman clapped him on the back, and held out his tumbler
for some more ale. The butler felt trebly an Englishman as he filled the
foaming glass. Ah! foreign nations may have their revolutions! foreign
aristocracies may tumble down! The British aristocracy lives in the
hearts of the people, and lives forever!

"Another!" said Geoffrey, presenting his empty glass. "Here's luck!" He
tossed off his liquor at a draught, and nodded to the butler, and went
out.

Had the experiment succeeded? Had he proved his own theory about himself
to be right? Not a doubt of it! An empty stomach, and a determination of
tobacco to the head--these were the true causes of that strange state of
mind