Many hours sped by after the receipt by Arthur of this note ere the important telegram arrived which told the world remaining in London which horse had won “the race.” In spite of his mad love for Honor Beacham, Arthur Vavasour heard the news with all-absorbing rapture. There were “take-offs,” it is true, from his joy. He was deprived of the pleasure of openly revelling in the fact that a horse of his had won the Derby by a head. Rough Diamond, running in the name of Colonel Norcott, was generally supposed to be the _bonâ-fide_ property of that fortunate individual; but although he could not hold his head high as the owner of a Derby winner, Arthur could, and did, rejoice with exceeding joy over the result of the race. He was, virtually, free from the debts of honour which had so long oppressed and disgraced him. The sale of the winner to the highest bidder would enable him to walk once more with a free step, and boldly, amongst the young men his fellows. That the heir-apparent of so fine a property as Gillingham Chace should have been reduced to such shifts, and have suffered from such pecuniary anxieties as had sometimes rendered sleepless the luxurious couch of Arthur Vavasour, may seem to some an abnormal, if not, indeed, an impossible, state of things; but it must be remembered, in the first place, that the heir to many thousands per annum had been but for a short period legally “of age;” and in the next, that the raising of money by that individual would have been at all times--in consequence of Lady Millicent’s well-known intention to dispute her father’s will--an affair very difficult of arrangement. Ever since his purchase of John Beacham’s powerful and, as his former owner--one of the best judges in England--boldly affirmed, most promising colt, Arthur had seen, with the confident eye of youth, a limit to the annoyance which had so long pressed upon his spirits. They had been very good-natured to him, those sporting friends of his to whom he owed some fifty, some a hundred, and _one_ more hundreds than it was pleasant to remember. They had bided their time. Arthur Vavasour had been such a mere lad when he became their debtor, and the men were, without an exception, far older, both in years and experience, than Lady Millicent’s thoughtless son; so, as I said, they had treated the young man tenderly. No cold shoulders had been turned to him either at the clubs or on the racecourse; and Arthur, thankful for the indulgence, was doubly glad of the opportunity which his success afforded him of paying with grateful thanks those who, somewhat singular to say, had not ceased to be his friends.