“What affair?” said Lydia, who had been privately wondering why he had come. “The assault-at-arms. King What’s-his-name’s affair. Webber told me he had arranged that you should come with me.” “Oh, you have come to take us there. I had forgotten. Did I promise to go?” “Webber said so. He was to have taken you himself; but, failing that, he promised to do a good thing for me and put me in his place. He said you particularly wanted to go, hang him!” Lydia then rose promptly and sent for her carriage. “There is no hurry,” bhe said. “We can drive to St. James’s Hall in twelve minutes.” “Hut we have to go to Islington, to the Agricultural Hall. There will be cavalry charges, and all sorts of fun.” “Bless me!” said Lydia. “Will there be any boxing?” “Yes,” said Lord Worthington, reddening, but unabashed. “Lots of it. It will be by gentlemen, though, except perhaps one bout to show the old king our professional form.” “Then excuse me while I go for my hat,” said Lydia, leaving the room. Alice had gone some time before to make a complete change in her dress, as the occasion was one for display of that kind. “You look awfully fetching, Miss Goff,” Lord Worthington said, as he followed them to the carriage. Alice did not deign to reply, but tossed her head superbly, and secretly considered whether people would, on comparison, think her overdressed or Lydia underdressed. Lord Worthington thought they both looked their best, and reflected for several seconds on the different styles of different women, and how what would suit one would not do at all for another. It seemed to him that Miss Carew’s presence made him philosophical. The Agricultural Hall struck Alice at first sight as an immense barn round which heaps of old packing-cases had been built into race-course stands, scantily decorated with red cloth and a few flags. She was conducted to a front seat in one of these balconies, which overhung the tan-strewn arena. Just below her were the palisades, ornamented at intervals with evergreens in tubs, and pressed against from without by a crowd who had paid a shilling apiece for the privilege of admission. She remarked that it was little to the credit of the management that these people should be placed so close beneath her that she could hear their conversation; but as Lydia did not seem to share her disgust, she turned her attention to the fashionable part of the audience. On the opposite side of the arena the balconies seemed like beds of flowers in bloom, blacknesses formed here and there by the hats and coats of gentlemen representing the interspaces of clay. In the midst of the flowers was a gaudy dais, on which a powerfully-built black gentleman sat in a raised chair, his majestic impassivity contrasting with the overt astonishment with which a row of savagely ugly attendant chiefs grinned and gaped on either side of him. “What a pity we are not nearer the king!” said Alice. “I can hardly see the dear old fellow.”