"Oh no; he could not come,--he was prevented, thank God! And the groom?" "Oh, he's all right; a little shaken, that's all." Laurence did not say that the groom had been _not_ a little shaken by Mr. Spurrier, who caught the wretched lad by the collar, and holding his whip over him told him mildly that he had a great mind to "cut his life out" for his cowardice in throwing himself out of the trap, and leaving his mistress to her fate. Then it was arranged that Mr. Saunderson should take Lady Mitford home, and explain all that had happened to Sir Charles. She took Laurence's arm to the carriage, and when she was seated, gave him her hand, saying frankly and earnestly, "I shall never forget that, under Providence, I owe my life to you, Colonel Alsager." As they drove back to town together, Mr. Spurrier said to his companion "I shall have to book Sir Launcelot to you, Colonel. I've looked at his knees, and though they're all right, only the slightest skin-wound, still--" "Don't say another word, Spurrier," interrupted Laurence; "I wouldn't let any one else have him, after to-day's work, for all the money in the world." Laurence spoke innocently enough; but he noticed that during the rest of the drive back to town Mr. Spurrier was eyeing him with great curiosity. CHAPTER VII. WHAT HAD DETAINED SIR CHARLES. The arrangement for the trial of the ponies had been one of some standing between Sir Charles and his wife, and one to which he fully intended to adhere. It is true that on waking after the supper with Messrs. Bligh, Winton, Pontifex, and their companions, he did not feel quite so fresh as he might have wished, and would very much have liked a couple of hours' additional sleep; yet so soon as he remembered the appointment, he determined that Georgie should not be disappointed; and by not having the "chill" taken off his shower-bath as usual, he was soon braced up to his ordinary good condition. Nevertheless, with all his good intentions, he was nearly an hour later than usual; and Georgie had gone up to dress for the drive when Sir Charles descended to the breakfast-room to discuss the second relay of broiled bone and devilled kidney which had been served up to tempt his sluggish appetite. He was making a not very successful attempt to eat, and between each mouthful was reading in the newspaper Mr. Rose's laudatory notice of Mr. Spofforth's play, when his servant, entering, told him that a "person" wanted to speak to him. There is no sharper appreciator of worldly position than your well-trained London servant, and Banks was a treasure. "What is it, Banks?" asked Sir Charles, looking up. "A person wishing to see you, Sir Charles," replied Banks. "A person! is it a man or a woman?" "The party," said Banks, varying his word, but not altering the generic appellation,--"the party is a man, sir." "Do I know him?"