while before. Yet so runs the world,--strife at one man's home, and
peace and contentment at his neighbor's; sorrow here, and rejoicing not a
league away.

Master Nicholas played one prank that evening that was near to costing
dear. My lady Temple made up a party for Temple Bow at the course, two
other coaches to come and some gentlemen riding. As Nick and I were
running through the paddock we came suddenly upon Mr. Harry Riddle and a
stout, swarthy gentleman standing together. The stout gentleman was
counting out big gold pieces in his hand and giving them to Mr. Riddle.

"Lucky dog!" said the stout gentleman; "you'll ride back with her, and
you've won all I've got." And he dug Mr. Riddle in the ribs.

"You'll have it again when we play to-night, Darnley," answered Mr.
Riddle, crossly. "And as for the seat in the coach, you are welcome to
it. That firebrand of a lad is on the front seat."

"D--n the lad," said the stout gentleman. "I'll take it, and you can
ride my horse. He'll--he'll carry you, I reckon." His voice had a way
of cracking into a mellow laugh.

At that Mr. Riddle went off in a towering bad humor, and afterwards I
heard him cursing the stout gentleman's black groom as he mounted his
great horse. And then he cursed the horse as it reared and plunged,
while the stout gentleman stood at the coach door, cackling at his
discomfiture. The gentleman did ride home with Mrs. Temple, Nick going
into another coach. I afterwards discovered that the gentleman had
bribed him with a guinea. And Mr. Riddle more than once came near
running down my pony on his big charger, and he swore at me roundly, too.