"Such unanimity of opinion breeds caution," said Parkington, with a laugh; "and I will profit by it. No more, gentlemen, no more." "Captain Herford," said Miss Stirling, "I will have another little bet on Figaro. Will you place these two pistoles for me?" "At what odds?" said Herford. "Whatever you can get; they ought to be about even, now." "You too, then, believe in Figaro?" asked Parkington. "I do," she said; "six pistoles at three to one, five pistoles at two to one, and two pistoles at even odds--it will keep me in spending money for a few weeks." "Or make you without spending money for a month." "I shall not lose," she said; "I shall not lose.... Ah, Mr. Maynadier, do you know Sir Edward Parkington?" Maynadier turned, and, for a moment his eyes rested on Sir Edward with an uncertain and hesitating recognition. Then, he shook his head. "I do not know," he said. "There is something familiar in his face, yet I can not say. I met so many people in London, at one time, that it is difficult to remember. I trust Sir Edward Parkington will understand. But whether or not we have ever met before, I am very glad to meet him now." "I think you are right," said Sir Edward, taking Maynadier's hand; "or, at least, if we met, I have no recollection of it. Indeed, I have no recollection of having met any one from Annapolis--much, as I see now, to my loss." "The horses are at the post!" exclaimed Miss Stirling, and each was glad for a moment of respite. This time, Figaro showed his blood. They ran easily enough, and together, but any one could see that the others had shot their bolts. In the last hundred yards, the red and white of Dr. Hammond went to the front and won handily. "It is Figaro's race," said Mr. Paca. "If he wins the next heat," observed Sir Edward. "The others are out of it," said Paca. "I am sorry, Sir Edward, but they are, and Figaro will get better; we have seen it happen before, in other races." And Mr. Paca was right. Figaro won the next heat even easier than the last, and Dr. Hammond led him off, while the men cheered, and the ladies waved their handkerchiefs. "Will you ride back with us?" Miss Stirling asked, as Maynadier made his adieu. "And have myself put down as rival to these young men," he said, with a smile. "What do you care, since you are not." "True enough, but the public would not believe it." "The public believes what suits it." "Just so, but it does not suit me that the public should have any cause to believe me smitten." "You care for the public?" she said. "Yes and no. No, where there is truth behind it; yes, when it is foundationless." "You are frank," she said. "Such was our compact." "And is it, then, so great a disgrace to have it said you rode beside my carriage?" "If they would stop with that, no; but they will not. I will ride beside your carriage any time, when you are alone; I will not jostle for a place with any one." "Then you will never ride, I fear."