anes when the shadows lengthened till the sunbeams
crept under the old trees and touched her hair with gold. It was in one
of these drives that he had vowed that he would always love her. He had
broken a sixpence with her in earnest of their betrothal contract. But
he did not like to have those drives recalled with Maggie Windsor
sitting just behind them. The horses were conveniently restive just
then, and perhaps Geoffrey did not put on quite so much brake going down
the hill as was necessary. The heavy vehicle went down with a rush;
Geoffrey and Mrs. Carey were not looking at the horses, the Duchess was
indifferent, Sydney looked on dyspeptically, and Dacre was looking far
ahead, as was his wont. Only Maggie Windsor gave a little scream and
grasped the rail.

"It was not so hard to drive Neddy as that four," Mrs. Carey went on.
"If I remember aright, the reins were often on the dash-board, and we
were not always absorbed in the scenery, I fear." Mrs. Carey sighed, and
looked away over the green hills and valleys.

"Poor old Neddy!" said Geoffrey, lightly. "I suppose he carries no such
happy burdens now."

"Some people are happy yet," the woman answered. "I told you yesterday I
had never blamed you for forgetting me after you went to Oxford. It was
true. But I missed you very much." There was a little tremor in her
voice as she said this. Geoffrey pricked his horses nervously.

"My heart gave a great leap when you came into the room--it should not
leap, being Oswald's," she continued, in a more worldly tone, "but it
did all the same. A woman's heart cannot forget its first possessor,
you know; even now that you have lost it--with the rest of your
estates," she added maliciously.

"With the rest of my estates," Geoffrey repeated, almost unconsciously.
They had crossed the highest hill by this time, and were upon a lower
ridge; before them a long green band of velvety turf stretched away over
the billowy downs, the chalk shining through the bare places where the
grass was worn away, like flecks of foam. Geoffrey had a sudden thought,
and, leaving the road, he cannoned the four noble horses over the close,
hard turf.

"Poor fellow!" said Mrs. Carey after a moment. "And are all your estates
really gone? Can you get none of them back? But where is this--where are
you going?"

"I say," said Sydney, "do you know where you are, Brompton? This used to
be Goodwood Race-course." Goodwood Race-course; so it was. There was