friends.

May, however, saw nothing but the outside. The already peeling-off
varnish of a few years of London life satisfied her. Given a certain
versatility in turning a complimentary phrase, the abundant ease with
which he explained his tastes, which, although few, were pronounced, add
to these the remnant of fashion that still lingered in his
wardrobe--scarfs from the Burlington Arcade, scent from Bond Street,
cracked patent-leather shoes and mended silk stockings--and it will be
understood how May built something that did duty for an ideal out of
this broken-down swell.

She was a girl of violent blood, and, excited by the air of the
hunting-field, she followed Fred's lead fearlessly; to feel the life of
the horse throbbing underneath her passioned and fevered her flesh until
her mental exaltation reached the rushing of delirium. Then his evening
manners fascinated her, and, as he leaned back smoking in the
dining-room arm-chair, his patent-leather shoes propped up against the
mantelpiece, he showed her glimpses of a wider world than she knew
of--and the girl's eyes softened as she listened to his accounts of the
great life he had led, the county-houses he had visited, and the
legendary runs he had held his own in. She sympathized with him when he
explained how hardly fate had dealt with him in not giving him £5,000 a
year, to be spent in London and Northamptonshire.

He cursed Ireland as the most hideous hole under the sun; he frightened
Mrs. Gould by reiterated assurances that the Land League would leave
them all beggars; and, having established this point, he proceeded to
develop his plan for buying young horses, training them, and disposing
of them in the English market. Eventually he dismissed his audience by