"Now, did I ever say so, Anne?" "You looked at the course with pious horror, and said it justified the suspicion!" persisted Rosamond. "That's better," said Julius; "though I never even said it justified the suspicion, any more than I said that balls might not easily be overdone, especially by _some_ people." "But you don't defend races?" said Anne. "No; I think the mischief they do is more extensive, and has less mitigation than is the case with any other public amusement." "H'm!" said Rosamond. "Many a merry day have I had on the top of the regimental drag; so perhaps there's nothing of which you would not suspect me." "I'll tell you what I more than suspect you of," said Julius, "of wearing a gay bonnet to be a bait and a sanction to crowds of young girls, to whom the place was one of temptation, though not to you." "Oh, there would be no end to it if one thought of such things." "Or the young men who--" "Well," broke in Rosamond, "it was always said that our young officers got into much less mischief than where there was a straight-laced colonel, who didn't go along with them to give them a tone." "That I quite believe. I remember, too, the intense and breathless sense of excitement in the hush and suspense of the multitude, and the sweeping by of the animals--" "Then you've been!" cried his wife. "As a boy, yes." "Not since you were old enough to think it over?" said Anne eagerly. "No. It seemed to me that the amount of genuine interest in the sport and the animals was infinitesimal compared with the fictitious excitement worked up by betting." "And what's the harm of betting when you've got the money?" "And when you haven't?" "That's another question." "Do you approve it at the best?" "It's a man's own concern." "That's arguing against your better sense." "Can't be helped, with two such solemn companions! There would be no bearing you if I didn't take you down sometimes, when you get so didactic, and talk of fictitious excitement, indeed! And now you are going to Rood House, what will you be coming back?" Rood House stood about two miles on the further side of Backsworth. It was an ancient almshouse, of which the mastership had been wisely given to Dr. Easterby, one of the deepest theological scholars, holiest men, and bravest champions of the Church, although he was too frail in health to do much, save with his pen, and in council with the numerous individuals who resorted to him from far and wide, and felt the beautiful old fragment of a monastic building where he dwelt a true court of peace and refreshment, whence they came forth, aided by prayer and counsel, for their own share of the combat.