disposed to be little triumphant. He had finished his season well
with the Runnymede, and were it not that, let him work as he
would, his expenses always exceeded his means, he would have been
fairly comfortable.

At eight o'clock Lord Silverbridge and his friend met in the
dining-room of the Beargarden. 'Have you been here before?' asked
the Lord.

'Not in here, my Lord. I just looked in at the smoking-room last
night. Glasslough and Nidderdale were there. I thought we should
have got up a rubber, but they didn't seem to see it.'

'There is whist there generally. You'll find out all about it
before long. Perhaps they are a little afraid of you.'

'I'm the worst hand at cards, I suppose, In England. A dash at loo
for about an hour, and half-a-dozen cuts at blind hookey,--that's
about my form. I know I drop more than I pick up. If I knew what I
was about I should never touch a card.'

'Horses; eh, Tifto?'

'Horses, yes. They've pretty good claret, here, eh, Silverbridge?'
He could never hit off his familiarity quite right. He had my-
Lorded his young friend at first, and now brought out the name
with a hesitating twang, which the young nobleman appreciated. But
then the young nobleman was quite aware that the Major was a
friend for club purposes, and sporting purposes, and not for home
use.