ome of the ladies. If you can't do that, if you can't
effect an _entree_, write to Miss Wyndham; don't be too lachrymose, or
supplicatory, in your style, but ask her to give you a plain answer
personally, or in her own handwriting."

"And if she declines the honour?"

"If, as you say and as I believe, she loves, or has loved you, I don't
think she'll do so. She'll submit to a little parleying, and then
she'll capitulate. But it will be much better that you should see her,
if possible, without writing at all."

"I don't like the idea of calling at Grey Abbey. I wonder whether
they'll go to London this season?"

"If they do, you can go after them. The truth is simply this,
Ballindine; Miss Wyndham will follow her own fancy in the matter, in
spite of her guardian; but, if you make no further advances to her, of
course she can make none to you. But I think the game is in your own
hand. You haven't the head to play it, or I should consider the stakes
as good as won."

"But then, about these horses, Dot. I wish I could sell them, out and
out, at once."

"You'll find it very difficult to get anything like the value for a
horse that's well up for the Derby. You see, a purchaser must make up
his mind to so much outlay: there's the purchase-money, and expense of
English training, with so remote a chance of any speedy return."

"But you said you'd advise me to sell them."

"That's if you can get a purchaser:--or else run them in another name.
You may run them in my name, if you like it; but Scott must understand
that I've nothing whatever to do with the expense."

"Would you not buy them yourself, Blake?"

"No. I would not."

"Why not?"

"If I gave you anything like the value for them, the bargain would not
suit me; and if I got them for what they'd be worth to me, you'd think,
and other people would say, that I'd robbed you."

Then followed a lengthened and most intricate discourse on the affairs
of the stable. Frank much wanted his friend to take his stud entirely
off his hands, but this Dot resolutely refused to do. In the course of
conversation, Frank owned that the present state of his funds rendered
it almost impracticable for him to incur the expense of sending his
favourite, Brien Boru, to win laurels in England. He had lost nearly
three hundred pounds the previous evening which his account at his
banker's did not enable him to pay; his Dublin agent had declined
advancing him more money at present, and his