"It isn't nice whether you are getting into years or not. But you cannot
call Mr. Fortescue an old man."

"You cannot call him a young 'un. He has a good many gray hairs, and them
puckers under his eyes hasn't come in a day. But he has a young heart, I
will say that for him. Did you see how he did that 'double' as pounded
half the field?"

"Yes, it was a very sporting jump. But who is Mr. Fortescue, and where
does he come from?"

"That is what nobody seems to know. Mr. Keyworth--he was at the kennels
only yesterday--asked me the very same question. He thought Jim Rawlings
might ha' told me something. But bless you, Jim knows no more than anybody
else. All as he can tell is as Mr. Fortescue sometimes goes to London,
that he is uncommon fond of hosses, and either rides or drives tandem
nearly every day, and has ordered a slap-up four-in-hand drag. And he has
got a 'boratory and no end o' chemicals and stuff, and electric machines,
and all sorts o' gimcracks."

"Is there a Mrs. Fortescue?"

"Not as I knows on. There is not a woman in the house, except servants."

"Who looks after things, then?"

"Well, there's a housekeeper. But the head bottle-washer is a chap they
call major-domo--a German he is. He looks after everything, and an
uncommon sharp domo he is, too, Jim says. Nobody can do him a penny piece.
And then there is Mr. Fortescue's body-servant; he's a dark man, with a