Spicer bowed, and muttered, and looked, as though he were waiting to be formally presented to the other lady in company; but Lady Lackington had not the most remote intention of bestowing on him such a mark of recognition, and merely answered the mute appeal of his features by a dry “Won't you sit down?” And Mr. Spicer did sit down, and of a verity his position denoted no excess of ease or enjoyment. It was not that he did not attempt to appear perfectly at home, that he did not assume an attitude of the very calmest self-possession, maybe he even passed somewhat the frontier of the lackadaisical territory he assumed, for he slapped his boot with his whip in a jaunty affectation of indifference. “Pray, don't do that!” said Lady Lackington; “it worries one!” He desisted, and a very awkward silence of some seconds ensued; at length she said, “There was something or other I wanted to ask you about; you can't help me to it, can you?” “I'm afraid not, my Lady. Was it anything about sporting matters?” “No, no; but now that you remind me, all that information you gave me about Glaucus was wrong, he came in 'a bad third.' My Lord laughed at me for losing my money on him, and said he was the worst horse of the lot.” “Very sorry to differ with his Lordship,” said Spicer, deferentially, “but he was the favourite up to Tuesday evening, when Scott declared that he'd win with Big the Market. I then tried to get four to one on Flycatcher, to square your book, but the stable was nobbled.” “Did you ever hear such jargon, my dear?” said Lady Lackington. “You don't understand one syllable of it, I'm certain.” Spicer smirked and made a slight approach to a bow, as though even this reference to him would serve for an introduction; but Lady Grace met the advance with a haughty stare and a look, that said, as plainly as any words, “At your peril, Sir!” [Illustration: 044] “Well, one thing is certain!” said Lady Lackington, “nothing that you predicted turned out afterwards. Glaucus was beaten, and I lost my three hundred pounds--only fancy, dearest, three hundred pounds, with which one could do so many things! I wanted it in fifty ways, and I never contemplated leaving it with the legs at Newmarket.” “Not the legs, I assure you, my Lady--not the legs. I made your book with Colonel Stamford and Gore Middleton--” “As if I cared who won it!” said she, haughtily. “I never knew that you tempted fortune in this fashion!” said Lady Grace, languidly.