as he hastily wrote--what a generous scrawl it was!--he said to me,
'Haven't we met somewhere before? I seem to remember your face.

"Great gentleman, I thought, because it was certain he knew he had never
seen me before, and I was overcome by the reflection that he wished to be
civil in that way to me. 'It's my father's face you remember, I should
think,' I answered. 'He is a member here. I am only a visitor. I
haven't been elected yet.' 'Ah, we must see to that!' he said with a
smile, and laid a hand on my shoulder as though he'd known me many a
year--and I only twenty-one. 'Who is your father?' he asked. When I
told him he nodded. 'Yes, yes, I know him--Crozier of Castlegarry; but
I knew his father far better, though he was so much older than me, and
indeed your grandfather also. Look--in this book is the first bet I ever
made here after my election to the club, and it was made with your
grandfather. There's no age in the kingdom of sport, dear lad,' he
added, laughing--'neither age nor sex nor position nor place. It's the
one democratic thing in the modern world. It's a republic inside this
old monarchy of ours. Look, here it is, my first bet with your
grandfather--and I'm only sixty now!' He smoothed the page with his hand
in a manner such as I have seen a dean do with his sermon-paper in a
cathedral puplit. 'Here it is, thirty-six years ago.' He read the bet
aloud. It was on the Derby, he himself having bet that the Prince of
Wale's horse would win. 'Your grandfather, dear lad,' he repeated, 'but
you'll find no bets of mine with your father. He didn't inherit that
strain, but your grandfather and your great-grandfather had it--sportsmen
both, afraid of nothing, with big minds, great eyes for seeing, and a
sense for a winner almost uncanny. Have you got it by any chance? Yes,
yes, by George and by John, I see you have; you are your grandfather to a
hair! His portrait is here in the club--in the next room. Have a look
at it. He was only forty when it was done, and you're very like him; the