“I will ring the bell for you with pleasure, Mr. Parke.” “That’s just one of the last things one would ask a lady to do,” cried John, “and I don’t know why you should ring the bell for me. If the fellow was here I don’t know what I want. I couldn’t tell him to sit down and talk to me. It’s such a bore to be left here alone, and everyone else away.” “I’ll sit down and talk to you if you like,” said Tisch, with a laugh. Her eyes recovered in the most marvelous manner. She felt inclined to sneeze, but shook it off. She began to wake up and see what was before her. Heir presumptive to Lord Frogmore! She had made up her mind that she was likely to meet somebody of importance on this great visit--and had no intention of neglecting any opportunity--though she had never even supposed, never hoped, to have such a captive delivered into her hands in this easy way. “I wish you would,” said John. “I’m afraid I’m not very lively, and this confounded ankle hurts; but perhaps we can find something to talk about. Are you fond of playing games, Miss Ravelstone? I wonder if there are any here?” “There is a chess board, I know,” said Letitia; “but I don’t know much about chess: and there’s bezique, and I have a ‘go bang’ of my own.” “Oh, if it’s not too much to ask, please fetch the go bang,” cried John. Miss Letitia nodded her head, she disappeared, and in two minutes returned a little out of breath with the box containing that intellectual amusement in her hand. She had done something to herself in the meantime, John felt, but though he was trained in the things that ladies “do” to make themselves more attractive he could not make out what it was. They played about twenty games at go bang, and time which had been so leaden-footed flew. But everything exhausts itself after a while. When an hour and a half had passed thus, John began to fidget again, and wonder what o’clock it was, and if it would soon be time for luncheon--which was at two in this late house: and it was now only one o’clock, another lingering hour. “Should you like,” said Miss Ravelstone, “to hear a great secret about Cobweb?” Now Cobweb was the favorite for the next day’s race, and John Parke had, as he would himself have said, a pot of money on that horse. “Anything about the race? Why, to be sure, of all things in the world,” he said. It has already been mentioned that the Ravelstones were all horsey to the last degree except Tisch, who was not of that persuasion; but she had heard horses talked of all her life, and while she entered into the biography of Cobweb, John Parke listened with eager eyes. CHAPTER II.