ld fact that in due
season--to be precise, at eleven minutes to four that same
afternoon--Slip Along won his race easily did not improve matters.
That he started at thirty-three to one was still less digestible....

When his lordship read the news at half-past five, he broke into a cold
sweat. Then he bit savagely at the nail of his favourite thumb.
Considering that, so recently as that morning, he had reluctantly
decided that that toothsome _entremet_ must be allowed to go unmolested
for at least a week, his action was indicative of an emotion which knew
no rules. That he made no mention of the matter to Anthony, was the
ugliest omen of all.

Two days later the second footman called Anthony, who was crossing the
hall.

It was a fine July morning, and the famous square was full of sunlight
and clear-cut shadows and the soft swish of leaves. All this could be
marked from the hall, for the front door stood wide open, and a fresh
cool breeze came floating into the mansion, to flirt with the high and
mighty curtains upon the landing, jostle the stately palms, and ruffle
up the pompous atmosphere with gay irreverence. The air itself would
have told you the hour. The intermittent knocks of a retreating
postman declared the time even more accurately.

"'Ere's a letter fer you, mate," said the second footman. "'A.
Lyveden, Esquire,' it says, all bald-like. No C.M.G., no B.F., no
nothin'. I should 'ave a raow abaout this."

Anthony came grinning.

"P'r'aps their _Who's Who's_ out of date," he said.

The other shook his head.

"It's the deecay of menners, mate," he said sorrowfully, turning to
resume the sorting operation upon which he was engaged.

The letter bore the postmark of a village in Hertfordshire, and proved
to be a communication from the Dogs' Home at which Patch was lodged.

_DEAR SIR,_

_I am sorry to inform you that your Sealyham has contracted distemper.
There is at present no reason to think that he will be seriously ill,
and, the veterinary surgeon is quite satisfied with his condition._

_Yours faithfully,_
_N. DAWES,_
_Supt._

Anthony stared at the sheet as it had been a death-warrant. It must be
remembered that Patch was all that he had in the world.

The second footman, who had been perusing a postcard addressed to the
Marchioness, placed the missive upon the top of his mistress's letters
and fell to whistling softly between his teeth. When he glanced round
to se