riding the doctor's horse behind them. "Look here, Eames," said the earl, as they parted on the steps of the hall door. "You're going back to town the day after to-morrow, you say, so I shan't see you again?"
"No, my lord," said Johnny.
"Look you here, now. I shall be up for the Cattle-show before Christmas. You must dine with me at my hotel, on the twenty-second of December, Pawkins', in Jermyn Street; seven o'clock, sharp. Mind you do not forget, now. Put it down in your pocket-book when you get home. Good-by, doctor; good-by. I see I must stick to that mutton chop in the middle of the day." And then they drove off.
"He'll make him his heir for certain," said Vickers to himself, as he slowly returned to his own quarters.
"You were returning from Allington, I suppose," said Crofts, "when you came across Lord De Guest and the bull?"
"Yes: I just walked over to say good-by to them."
"Did you find them all well?"
"I only saw one. The other two were out."
"Mrs. Dale, was it?"
"No; it was Lily."
"Sitting alone, thinking of her fine London lover, of course? I suppose we ought to look upon her as a very lucky girl. I have no doubt she thinks herself so."
"I'm sure I don't know," said Johnny.
"I believe he's a very good young man," said the doctor; "but I can't say I quite liked his manner."
"I should think not," said Johnny.
"But then in all probability he did not like mine a bit better, or perhaps yours either. And if so it's all fair."
"I don't see that it's a bit fair. He's a snob," said Eames; "and I don't believe that I am." He had taken a glass or two of the earl's "severe Falernian," and was disposed to a more generous confidence, and perhaps also to stronger language, than might otherwise have been the case.
"No; I don't think he is a snob," said Crofts. "Had he been so, Mrs. Dale would have perceived it."
"You'll see," said Johnny, touching up the earl's horse with energy as he spoke. "You'll see. A man who gives himself airs is a snob; and he gives himself airs. And I don't believe he's a
