ter. He insisted that the match
should come off in Hyde Park. I should have preferred the open roads
north of Bedford House."

"Where there is no Serpentine," she interrupted, with the faintest
suspicion of a twinkle about her eyes. "On, sir, on! You are as
reluctant as our pump at Wilmot House in the dry season. I see you were
not killed, as you richly deserved. Let us have the rest of your tale."

"There is very little more to it, save that I contrived to master the
beast, and his Grace--"

"--Was disgraced. A vastly fine achievement, surely. But where are you
to stop? You will be shaming the King next by outwalking him. Pray, how
did the duke appear as he was going into the Serpentine?"

"You have heard?" I exclaimed, the trick she had played me dawning upon
me.

"Upon my word, Richard, you are more of a simpleton than I thought you.
Have you not seen your newspaper this morning?"

I explained how it was that I had not. She took up the Chronicle.

"'This Mr. Carvel has made no inconsiderable noise since his arrival in
town, and yesterday crowned his performances by defeating publicly a
noble duke at a riding match in Hyde Park, before half the quality of the
kingdom. His Lordship of March and Ruglen acted as umpire.' There, sir,
was I not right to beg Sir John Fielding to put you in safe keeping until
your grandfather can send for you?"

I made to seize the paper, but she held it from me.

"'If Mr. Carvel remains long enough in England, he bids fair to share the
talk of Mayfair with a certain honourable young gentleman of Brooks's and
the Admiralty, whose debts and doings now furnish most of the gossip for
the clubs and the card tables. Their names are both connected with this
contest. 'Tis whispered that the wager upon which the match was ridden
arose--'" here Dolly stopped shortly, her colour mounting, and cried out
with a stamp of her foot. "You are not content to bring publicity upon
yourself, who deserve it, but must needs drag innocent names into the
newspapers."

"What have they said?" I demanded, ready to roll every printer in London
in the kennel.

"Nay, you may read for yourself," said she. And, flinging the paper in
my lap, left the room.

They had not said much more, Heaven be praised. But I was angry and
mortified as I had never been before, realizing for the first time what a
botch I had made of my stay in London. In great dejection, I was picking
up my hat to leave the house, when Mrs. M