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"Alter our dinner hour? You've rather a nerve, haven't you, Banstead?" "I wouldn't suggest it, if we weren't pals," replied the other, grinning somewhat shamefacedly. "But the fact is I've got an appointment late this afternoon." The fatuity of vicious and coroneted youth outstripped his discretion.
Lord Banstead dismounted, gave his horse to the lad, and came up to Dick. He was an unhealthy, dissipated-looking young man, with lustreless eyes, a characterless chin, and an underfed moustache. He wore a light blue hunting stock, fastened by a ruby fox in full gallop, and a round felt hat with a very narrow flat brim, beneath which protruded strands of Andrew aguecheek hair.
It is observable of these sheep that they are exceeding fruitful, the ewes generally bringing two lambs, and they are for that reason bought by all the farmers through the east part of England, who come to Burford Fair in this country to buy them, and carry them into Kent and Surrey eastward, and into Buckinghamshire and Bedfordshire and Oxfordshire north; even our Banstead Downs in Surrey, so famed for good mutton, is supplied from this place.
"Then your silly rotter of an honorary secretary," cried Dick angrily, "has sent Austin the letter of invitation that was meant for me." "Oh, no, he didn't," said Banstead. "It's all right. They chucked you, old son. Now I remember. I promised to explain." Dick turned aside. "Oh, you needn't explain," he said bitterly. "But I must. They had their reasons, you know.
"Yes let us say eleven. It will be lovely." "I'll have it round at eleven o'clock. You'll see. She's a flyer." "So am I," she said with a laugh, and pointed to the front gate, which a garden lad had just run to open to admit a young man on horseback. "Oh, lord! it's Banstead," said Dick with a groan. "Au revoir eleven o'clock," said Viviette, and she fled.
"Hallo, Banstead," said Dick, not very cordially. "Hallo," said the other, halting before the rose-bed, where Dick was tying up some blooms with bast. He watched him for a moment or two. Conversation was not spontaneous. "Where's Viviette?" he asked eventually. "Who?" growled Dick. "Rot. What's the good of frills? Miss Hastings." "Busy. She'll be busy all the morning."
The town talk this day is of nothing but the great foot-race run this day on Banstead Downes, between Lee, the Duke of Richmond's footman, and a tyler, a famous runner. And Lee hath beat him; though the King and Duke of York and all men almost did bet three or four to one upon the tyler's head. 31st.
Old Joe, young Joe's missus, and the kids, stowed away in the body of the cart; while young Joe balanced on one shaft and Monkey on the other. The party crossed Barnes Common in the small hours of the Monday morning, and dossed on Banstead Downs that night. Next day they joined the great stream of traffic rolling out of London Epsomward. Young Joe, whose strength lay in his powers of sympathetic intuition, let Monkey drive. And the urchin took his place with pride in that vast stream of char-
I have stood on Banstead Downs in the blaze of sunlight on a still October morning, and when I saw the smoke-cloud black as night hang over the horizon northwards, I have longed with the yearning of an imprisoned convict to be the meanest of the blessed souls enveloped in it.
I told him that I should certainly return to fight at Eadmund's side, for the queen would not keep me in Rouen. When he left London it was his wish to seek me there, and so we looked to see one another again before very long. "Then it is farewell, my cousin," he said, when at last we came to Banstead, for he would not leave us sooner.
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