On this occasion, however, he made no comment, but turned to Mortimer

Shelton.

"You'll find the roads here better suited for horses than for oil-cans,"

he said grimly. "We are primitive, as you know."

Shelton laughed; but he knew his host's ideas on this subject, and was

apt to respect them.

"So much the better, sir," he said in a cheerful tone; "I am a bit tired

of the smell of petrol myself. Give me Nature without a corset."

"You'll certainly get that here," Lord Barminster replied, favouring his

young guest with an approving glance.

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Shortly afterwards, they made their way to the morning-room. Here,

luncheon had been laid, and Lord Barminster, Miss Penelope, with Lady

Constance, were awaiting them. The little party sat down to table, each

one secretly only too ready for the meal; for the ride through the

fresh, country air had been a fairly long one.

"I was really hungry, Constance," Adrien said, with his low, careless

laugh. "There must be magic in the air of Barminster."

"Yet still you come here so seldom," returned his cousin gently.

"Business and the cares of State," quoted Adrien, with a smile. "But I

might retaliate. Why do we not see you up in town? Society misses one of

its brightest stars."

Lady Constance toyed idly with the grapes on her plate; then she looked

up.

"Society has many brighter lights than I, Adrien," she said quietly.

"But now, tell me about the race--auntie is terribly anxious over it;

are you not, dear?"

"Yes, my love," returned Miss Penelope, who, in reality, hardly knew one

horse from another.

"Oh, Adrien always wins," put in Lord Standon. "That's a foregone

conclusion. Have you seen the 'King' lately, Lady Constance?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, "He is exercised in the paddock every morning,

and is in fine form."

Adrien smiled.

"Poor 'King Cole'; he'll be worth his weight in gold if he wins

to-morrow! What about the other horses, Stan; are they down?"

"Yes," replied Lord Standon; "my man saw some of them at the station;

but no sign of the Yorkshire chestnut."

"So much the better," said Adrien; "perhaps his owner has thought

discretion the better part of valour and withdrawn him."

The conversation then flowed into other channels; Paxhorn provoking

roars of merriment by his stories and epigrams. Presently the ladies

withdrew; Lady Constance to prepare for a ride with Adrien, which he had

just suggested, and Miss Penelope to rest her "nerves."




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