20 A CLUB-KOOM. 



" Sorry you think so, for the gray is — " 



"Is what?" asked half a dozen eager voices. 

 *' There is nothing wrong about him, I'll be sworn." 



" Is — not mine." 



"None of them are, for that matter, I fancy," said 

 the laird of Saddell ; " I suppose Tilbury horses you 

 as usual ; and he has done wonders for you this year. 

 By the bye, what a lot of them you've got ; I counted 

 fifty-six as they came in, beside hacks." 



" He is not Tilbury's either. There were two lots 

 together : only thirty of them are mine. I wish he 

 was mine, but I can't get him, though I bid five hun- 

 dred for him at sight, without trial." 



" Why, whose the devil is he then ? He looks too 

 high bred for a provincial?" 



" Are we to have a new snob, count, this season?" 

 asked ill-natured Jardinier, with a coarse oath ; he 

 was expelled from Eton for foul language. " We've 

 had no one to roast, this year and more." 



" The gray belongs to Mr. Fairfax," answered the 

 Russian quietly, " and from all that I have heard, I 

 don't think he will do very well for roasting, Lord 

 Jardinier." 



" No, indeed, will he not," said Dick Gascoigne, 

 " Tom is the best man in Yorkshire, and neither Jar- 

 dinier nor any one else will ride much before him. 

 But I had no notion Tom was coming here. I heard 

 from him ten days ago, and he said nothing about 

 leaving Yorkshire.'* 



" I don't believe, Gascoigne, he ever was in Yorkshire 

 in all his life," answered Matuschevitz with a smile. 



"What, not Tom Fairfax of Newton Kyne?" 



" Certainly not Tom Fairfax of Newton Kyne, but 

 Percy Fairfax of Accomac." 



" Of Ace— what ?" 



" Who the deuce is Percy Fairfax V* 



"Where the devil is Accomac ?" 



