and have a "bout" of it, as York called it, and be a disgrace to
himself, a terror to his wife, and a nuisance to all that had to do with
him. He was, however, so useful that two or three times York had hushed
the matter up and kept it from the earl's knowledge; but one night, when
Reuben had to drive a party home from a ball he was so drunk that he
could not hold the reins, and a gentleman of the party had to mount the
box and drive the ladies home. Of course, this could not be hidden, and
Reuben was at once dismissed; his poor wife and little children had to
turn out of the pretty cottage by the park gate and go where they could.
Old Max told me all this, for it happened a good while ago; but shortly
before Ginger and I came Smith had been taken back again. York had
interceded for him with the earl, who is very kind-hearted, and the man
had promised faithfully that he would never taste another drop as long
as he lived there. He had kept his promise so well that York thought he
might be safely trusted to fill his place while he was away, and he was
so clever and honest that no one else seemed so well fitted for it.

It was now early in April, and the family was expected home some time in
May. The light brougham was to be fresh done up, and as Colonel Blantyre
was obliged to return to his regiment it was arranged that Smith should
drive him to the town in it, and ride back; for this purpose he took the
saddle with him, and I was chosen for the journey. At the station the
colonel put some money into Smith's hand and bid him good-by, saying,
"Take care of your young mistress, Reuben, and don't let Black Auster be
hacked about by any random young prig that wants to ride him--keep him
for the lady."

We left the carriage at the maker's, and Smith rode me to the White
Lion, and ordered the hostler to feed me well, and have me ready for him
at four o'clock. A nail in one of my front shoes had started as I came
along, but the hostler did not notice it till just about four o'clock.
Smith did not come into the yard till five, and then he said he should
not leave till six, as he had met with some old friends. The man then
told him of the nail, and asked if he should have the shoe looked to.

"No," said Smith, "that will be all right till we get home."

He spoke in a very loud, offhand way, and I thought it very unlike him
not to see about the shoe, as he was generally wonderfully particular
about loose nails in our shoes. He d