as far as the eye can see. Imagine a
straight line marked out, where the horses are to run; and at the end
of it a post, which is the goal, and there is the judges' stand. All
about this course, on both sides, that is towards the latter part of
the course, fancy rows of carriages, drawn up as close as they can
stand, the horses taken out; and on these carriages a crowd of people
packed as thick as they can find room to sit and stand. They talk and
laugh and discuss the horses. By and by you hear a cry that the horses
have set off; and then everybody looks to see them coming, with all
sorts of glasses and telescopes; and everybody is still, waiting and
watching, until I suppose the horses get near enough for people to
begin to judge how the race will turn out; and then begins the
fearfullest uproar you ever heard, everybody betting and taking bets.
_Everybody_ seemed to be doing it, even ladies. And with the betting
comes the shouting, and the cursing, and the cheering on this one and
that one; it was a regular Babel. Even the ladies betted."

"Every one does it," said Mr. Copley.

"And the poor horses come running, and driven to run as hard as they
can; beautiful horses too, some of them; running to decide all those
bets! I don't think it is an amusement for civilised people."

"Why not?" said her father.

"It is barbarous. There is no sense in it. If the white horse beats the
black, I'll pay you a thousand pounds; but if the black horse beats the
white, you shall pay me two thousand. Is there any sense in that?"

"Some sense in a thousand pound."

"Lost"--said Dolly.

"It is better not to lose, certainly."

"But somebody must lose. And people bet in a heat, before they know
what they ought to say; and bet more than they have to spare; I saw it
yesterday."

"_You_ didn't bet, Mr. Copley?" said his wife.

"A trifle. My dear, when one is in Rome, one must do as the Romans do."

"Did you lose?"

"I gained, a matter of fifty pounds."

"Who did you gain it from, father?"

"Lawrence St. Leger."

"He has no right to bet with his father's money."

"Perhaps it is his own. I will give you twenty pound of it, Dolly, to
do what you like with."

But Dolly would have none of it. If it was to be peace money, it made
no peace with her.

CHAPTER X.

BRIERLEY COTTAGE.

A few months later than this, it happened one day that Mr. Copley was
surprised in his office by a visit from young St. Leger. Mr. Copley wa