214 THE HAUGHTYSHIKE HUNT. 



pride in her voice. She considered that ' Oxford ' must leave 

 its impression even on a Duke. 



"Oh, ah, yes. How do, Mr. Binkie? No, thank you very 

 much, my dear lady, I won't take anything now. In fact, I 

 am just going back to have luncheon. My dear Miss Comely, 

 so glad to see you. I hope you'll allow me to fetch you to the 

 coach for the principal race '? that is, if your charming hostess 

 will spare you? " and he turned such a fascinating smile upon 

 Mrs. Binkie that that lady would have been prepared to go to 

 the stake cheerfully, in the Ducal cause, had necessity called 

 at that moment. The great man raised his hat, dropped his 

 eyeglass, and passed on, and at the same time Travers gave up 

 the hopeless struggle he had been engaged in with the pigeon- 

 pie. For the fact was that, as the time for his race drew near, 

 Mr. Travers Algernon Binkie began to experience a certain 

 twittering of the heart, dryness of the lips, and the same 

 disinclination for food that many of us feel when tossing on 

 the troubled waters of the ocean. He began to doubt whether 

 liis horse was quite the certainty at his fences he had always 

 thought ; he began to doubt whether, after all, steeplechasing 

 wasn't rather a reckless and foolish thing. In short, if it 

 had not been for the fact that Miss Lucretia Lumpkin stood 

 at his side, putting away prodigious chunks of pie and large 

 quantities of salad, and ever and anon gazing into his boiled- 

 codlish-like optics, Mr. Binkie would have run away ! 



Jack Dashwood and Sir Tommy were both going to ride, 

 the former, one belonging to a dealer who had managed to 

 ' qualify ' him in that country, but which proud animal was 

 really an old steeplechase horse with his name conveniently 

 forgotten ; and the Baronet, a brute owned by a farmer in 



