I sat down, endeavouring in vain to enter clearly into the several subjects they were so eagerly discussing, and perfectly bewildered by the strong contrast the whole scene presented to my life for the last few days. Then followed long weary debates on the coming event, interspersed with anecdotes of the villainy of certain trainers and the intense knowingness of the jockies. Finally, I began to take some interest in the details; the result partly of habit, and partly of an effort to do so, lest any appearance of pre-occupation might set my brother officers on the scent to discover its course. I was successful--for Sedley exclaimed, "I never saw Egerton return from one of his philosophic expeditions with his wits so much about him." "By the way, you've been over to that tumble down old place A----; is it worth seeing?" said another. "Yes, to a lover of the picturesque and antique, but it has nothing else to attract." "Ah! that will do; I do not care for the picturesque." "Were you successful in your search?" asked Burton imprudently. "For what?" called out half a dozen. "For the picturesque, of course," he replied. I breathed again. "Yes, particularly successful." He smiled, and shrinking from the thought of my companions getting the slightest clue to his real meaning, especially in their present mood, I rose and bid them all good-night, having endured their Babel for more than two hours. "And you will not sport even a pony on the Leger?" "No, not a sixpence, I was bitten too severely at Ascot last spring." "Never say die, you're not going to knock under to your luck that way?" "I am, though, and I wish I could persuade you to do the same, Vavasour," said I, laughing, and laying my hand on the shoulder of an aristocratic looking stripling who had joined about six months before, and who coloured to the eyes at the idea of advice on prudence. "Egerton is about to abjure the pomps and vanities of this wicked world," said one. "He has been _en retrait_ with Grab'em-all, the field preacher," said another. I laughed. "Perhaps it was as pleasant as yours with Levi Solomons, and Co., last March," said I. He reddened, but laughing good humouredly, shook his hand at me. "Go your own way, old fellow." "It has always been my habit, and I intend to continue it," said I coolly, and made my exit. Refusing Burton's offer of a visit to my room, on the plea of fatigue, I threw myself in an arm chair I called my study, as I generally sat in it when disposed for thought, and tried to arrange my entangled ideas into something like order; the attempt, however, was not very successful.