"Oh, it's the wife's wish. She won't rest till I have `M.P.' at the end of my name." "Good thing too. You're getting mossy here. Go into Parliament, and it will soon be rubbed off. The poor dear lady is spoiling you. Too much apron-string. She's stopped your racing and hunting, but you must do something. Go in and win your seat." "I don't care much about it." "More fool you! Think of the chances it will give you of a little life. The House--there you are; an excuse for everything not quite in running order with the ideas of such a lady as madam. Club? Best in London. Late hours? Sitting till two, three, four, or milk-time." "Yes; I never gave that a thought." "An excuse for everything, dear boy, and your wife proud of you. Oh, I should enter for those stakes, certainly. It will cost you something, though." "I suppose so; but, between ourselves, Lady Lisle has placed four thou' to my account for election expenses." "Brave little woman! The widow's all wrong." "How! Why? What do you mean?" "She said her ladyship kept the chequebook, and saw to the estate herself, only allowing you a little pocket-money when you were a good boy." "Tell Lady Tilborough to mind her own business, Jack," said the baronet, tartly. "My dear Hilt, I'd share my last fiver with you, or I'd back any of your paper with pleasure; but I'll be hanged if I'll do that I say, though, come on to the race to-day." Sir Hilton shook his head. "Nonsense! Think of it. Your old filly, La Sylphide, first favourite. I saw her a week ago. Lovely! Lady Tilborough told me she wouldn't take four times as much for her as she gave at your sale." "The beautiful gazelle-eyed creature!" sighed Sir Hilton. "That she is." "Who is up?" said Sir Hilton. "Josh Rowle, your old jock, of course. The widow told me that she wouldn't--I mean the mare--let anyone else go near her." "Just like her, Jack. She had a temper, but she was like a kitten with me. Came ambling up the paddock when I whistled, and she'd rub her head against me for all the world like a cat, and fetch bits of carrot out of my pocket, or whinny for sugar. Ah! those were dear old days. Yes, she'll pull it off for certain." "Come and see her run." "I couldn't, old man. I couldn't bear it. No, I'm entered for the House of Commons. Lady Lisle says I'm to be a--a Minister some day." "Bravo! Be Chancellor of the Exchequer, and keep the purse. But I say, do come. You must be hungry for a race after fasting so long." "I am, Jack, I am." "Come, then." "No; don't ask me," said the baronet; "my racing days are over." "And you've burnt your jockey cap and silk, the scarlet and blue stripe of the finest gentleman-rider of his day?" "By Jove! no. I keep them, leathers, boots, whip, and all, in a locked-up drawer. My man, Mark, takes them out to set them up and worship sometimes." "Then you really won't come?"