he sat uneasy in his saddle, whilst he reflected that the horse upon
which he was mounted, was perhaps as deservedly an object of contempt as
any of Sir Plantagenet's stud. His new friend, without seeming to notice
his embarrassment, continued his conversation, and drew a tempting
picture of the pleasures and glories of a horse-race: he said, "he was
just training a horse for the York races, and a finer animal never was
crossed. Sir Plantagenet's eldest son would have been the proudest and
happiest of men, if his father would but have bought the horse for him:
but he had refused, and the youth himself had not the price, or half the
price, at his command."

Our hero was no judge of horses, but he was ambitious to prove that his
spirit was superior to that of the haughty baronet; and that something
good might be expected from him, as he was not stingy in horseflesh.
Besides, he was worked up to a high degree of curiosity to see the York
races; and his companion assured him that he could not appear there
without being well mounted. In short, the hour was not at an end before
he had offered a hundred guineas for the finest horse that ever
was crossed. He was charmed with the idea that he should meet Sir
Plantagenet Mowbray's son and heir at the York races, and should show
him that he was able and willing to pay for the horse, which his
arrogant father could not afford to purchase.

From the anecdote of the heronry, his companion perceived that Marvel
was a man fond of projects; and he proposed to him a scheme, which
caught his fancy so much that it consoled him for his disappointment. It
was the fault of our enterprizing hero's character always to think the
last scheme for making a fortune the best. As soon as he reached home he
was in haste to abandon some of his old projects, which now appeared to
him flat, stale, and unprofitable. About a score of his flock, though