"Ye-es," said Lloyd, who did not at all relish being told that he had "got hold of" anybody, and who was much disgusted by Foxey's recollections and performance. "Yes," said he, rising from his chair as he spoke; "I think I must go now." "Must you?" said Foxey, who had become very much flushed and invigorated by the brandy; "must you? That's a bore, that is, for I had somethin' very particular to say to you; somethin' that concerns you much more than it does me; somethin'," added Foxey, looking hazily at his companion, "that would be d--d awkward for you if it got blown. Don't you fear for me! I'm as close as wax, I am; only--however, I'll see you about it to-morrow or next day. Good-night, old fellow; compliments to my lord." "Something that concerns me more than it does him? That would be awkward for me if it got blown? What the devil does he mean?" said Lloyd to himself, as he walked down the _allée_. "Awkward for me?--the old brute was drunk, and did not know what he said. Probably a plant to get more money out of me. He _could_ know nothing that would have the slightest bearing on me or my affairs. I daresay he'll try it on again when I see him next; but he'll find it difficult to draw me of any more money, more especially if he attempts to bounce me out of it." The next day was bright and cheerful, and the little racecourse, though much sneered at by the "talent," served its purpose very well, and was thronged with a merry, animated crowd. The natives, to be sure, did not understand very much what it was all about. The women cried, "Ach, Herr Je!" at the sight of the tight little English jocks stripping off their outer coats and appearing in all the glory of flashing silk; and the men took their pipes from their mouths and swore "Donnerwetter!" as the horses went thundering by. The Winchester and Carabas faction had each one side of the little stand, the leaders exchanged sweet hand-kissings, the followers bowed and grinned and nodded with all the warmth and sincerity which form the basis of our social relations. Lady Carabas, as usual, wore pink; the Duchess of Winchester, who was very fair and petite, wore blue; and the retainers followed suit. Mr. Toshington was as much divided in his allegiance and as much perplexed to know which colour to sport as a London cabman on the morning of the University boat-race. He had enjoyed the hospitality of both houses, and indeed had earned many a good dinner by carrying tattle from one to the other; but up to this time he had never been called upon to make his election, to say "under which queen;" and those who were in the secret, in which category was included everyone present, were greatly amused to see the difficulty which the old gentleman had in trimming his sails and steering his course in safety. There were some who, unlike Tommy Toshington, were independent, who sided with neither party, but were friendly and familiar with both. Among those were Lord Ticehurst--who, though bound