sent--the only member of the family absent was Will: who, however,
left a note for his cousin, in which Will stated, in exceedingly
bad spelling, that he was obliged to go away to Salisbury Races that
morning, but that he had left the horse which his cousin won last night,
and which Tom, Mr. Will's groom, would hand over to Mr. Warrington's
servant. Will's absence did not prevent the rest of the party from
drinking a dish of tea amicably, and in due time the carriages rolled
into the courtyard, the servants packed them with the Baroness's
multiplied luggage, and the moment of departure arrived.

A large open landau contained the stout Baroness and her niece; a
couple of men-servants mounting on the box before them with pistols and
blunderbusses ready in event of a meeting with highwaymen. In another
carriage were their ladyships' maids, and another servant in guard
of the trunks, which, vast and numerous as they were, were as nothing
compared to the enormous baggage-train accompanying a lady of the
present time. Mr. Warrington's modest valises were placed in this second
carriage under the maid's guardianship, and Mr. Gumbo proposed to ride
by the window for the chief part of the journey.

My lord, with his stepmother and Lady Fanny, accompanied their kinswoman
to the carriage steps, and bade her farewell with many dutiful embraces.
Her Lady Maria followed in a riding-dress, which Harry Warrington
thought the most becoming costume in the world. A host of servants stood
around, and begged Heaven bless her ladyship. The Baroness's departure
was known in the village, and scores of the folks there stood waiting
under the trees outside the gates, and huzzayed and waved their hats as
the ponderous vehicles rolled away.

Gumbo was gone for Mr. Warrington's horses, as my lord, with his arm
under his young guest's, paced up and down the court. "I hear you carry
away some of our horses out of Castlewood?" my lord said.

Harry blushed. "A gentleman cannot refuse a fair game at the cards," he
said. "I never wanted to play, nor would have played for money had not
my cousin William forced me. As for the chaplain, it went to my heart to
win from him, but he was as eager as my cousin."

"I know--I know! There is no blame to you, my boy. At Rome you can't
help doing as Rome does; and I am very glad that you have been able to
give Will a lesson. He is mad about play--would gamble his coat off his
back--and I and the family have had to