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  When George heard of the projected visit to Severn Towers, he lost no time in presenting himself in Green Street. He was fortunate enough to choose a moment when Mrs Milborne was out, and thus gained access to the Beauty. Without preamble, he demanded to be told if the news were true, and, upon Miss Milborne’s admitting that her grace had indeed issued the invitation, conducted himself with so little restraint that Isabella, who had been wavering between a natural desire to make one of a ducal house-party and a maidenly disinclination to give Severn the encouragement which an acceptance of the invitation must imply, quite lost her temper, and not only declared her intention of doing precisely as she pleased, but added the rider that her actions were no concern of Lord Wrotham. His lordship then so far forgot himself as to seize her in his arms, enfolding her in a crushing embrace and covering her face with kisses. How Miss Milborne might have reacted to this treatment had her Mama’s butler not chanced at that moment to open the door and to announce the Misses Bagshot no one, least of all herself, could have guessed. In the event, she was furious, and had she not been a very well-brought-up girl she would have slapped George’s face. The violence of his ardour had disarranged her hair, she knew herself to be blushing hotly, realised from the butler’s expression that he had been a witness of George’s passion, and saw that Cassy and Eudora, though they might not have been in time to surprise her in George’s arms, had a tolerably exact notion of what had been going forward. She could have screamed with vexation; and when Mrs Milborne came home she was pleasantly surprised to find that the daughter whom she had left recalcitrant had suddenly become as malleable as the most exacting parent could wish. In fact, Miss Milborne was ready to oblige her Mama by spending Christmas at Severn Towers after all.

  Lord Wrotham, dissuaded by his friends from putting a pistol to his head, sought a modicum of relief by quarrelling with the utmost violence with any gentleman obliging or foolhardy enough to join issue with him. He found three. One was Sherry, who succeeded in drawing the distracted lover’s cork during the course of several spirited rounds; another was the Honourable Marmaduke Fakenham, who capped every insult flung at him with zest and aplomb, and then very meanly refused to give poor George the satisfaction he craved; and the third was a total stranger who had the ill-fortune to jostle George in a doorway, and who showed himself so ready to take umbrage at George’s subsequent behaviour that it was manifest he had no notion with whom he had to deal. However, Ferdy and the inarticulate Mr Gumley, who happened to be present, hastily drew him aside, and divulged George’s identity before he had had the time actually to commit himself.

  Baulked of his prey, George retired to his ancestral acres, the general decay of which was exactly suited to his mood. Here he divided his time between being very disagreeable to his Mama and his young sisters, and riding to hounds in a reckless fashion, which led his friends to prophesy that he would end by breaking his neck.

  The Sheringhams spent Christmas in Buckinghamshire, at the country seat of the Fakenhams, where they made two of a large and cheerful party of young persons, chaperoned not too strictly by Lady Fakenham, who was of an easy-going disposition that made her immensely popular with the younger set. The visit, which lasted for over a week,was only slightly marred by the ravages committed by Jason upon the moveable properties of his master’s fellow-guests. These depredations took place immediately upon receipt of the timepiece bestowed on the Tiger by Hero, and were tearfully explained by him to be due to the strain placed on him by the past few months of abstinence. His wrathful master refused to accept this explanation, and a painful session in the stableyard seemed inevitable when Ferdy, whose watch no longer held any lure for Jason, intervened on his behalf, pointing out (to the indignation of several gentlemen whose fobs, seals, and purses had been stolen from them) that the circumstances of his being still in possession of his watch showed that the Tiger was morally much improved. An earnest entreaty from Hero settled the matter. The Viscount consented to pardon his shivering henchman, on condition that all the stolen property was restored. This was done, and upon his lordship’s having had the happy idea of threatening to send the Tiger back to London if he again allowed his instincts to get the better of him, Jason hurriedly and voluntarily restored to the Honourable Marmaduke a snuff-box which its owner had until that moment believed himself to have mislaid in town.

  This affair having been settled to the satisfaction of everyone, nothing else of a like nature occurred to disturb the harmony of the visit. The Festive Season was whiled away in the pursuit of various sports and pastimes, including some pheasant-shooting, a ball, and a grand phaeton-race between Hero and Ferdy’s sister, Lady Fairford, who was accounted a notable whip, and who gaily challenged the bride to a trial of skill. The gentlemen threw themselves into this with great zest, arguing over the conditions of the race, deciding upon a suitable course, and freely exchanging bets. Lady Fairford was naturally the favourite, but Mr Ringwood, feeling his honour to be at stake, backed his own pupil heavily, and gave her some very sage advice. Lady Fakenham said they were a party of sad romps, but raised no real objection to the encounter. It took place within the extensive grounds of Fakenham Manor, and Hero, obeying Mr Ringwood’s instructions to the letter, won it by several lengths. The Viscount was delighted. He said his Kitten was a regular nonpareil, and could drive to an inch; and when she was toasted in extravagant terms at dinner that evening he looked so proud of her that her heart swelled in her bosom, and she could only blush, and shake her head, and look entreatingly at him. Lady Fairford, who affected a very mannish diction, said that the shine had been taken out of her indeed; Lord Fakenham gave it as his opinion that Letty Lade in her hey-day could not have beaten his young friend’s performance; and Mr Ringwood said simply that his pupil had shown herself at home to a peg.

  But the race, so innocent and pleasurable in itself,was to lead to disastrous results. It was naturally talked of, and the news that a new and dangerous female whip had arrived in town reached the ears of Lady Royston, the wife of a sporting baronet, and herself no mean handler of the ribbons. She had not until then paid much heed to Sherry’s bride, for she was some years her senior, and had, in any event, little time to waste on her own sex. But, meeting Hero at the house of a mutual acquaintance, she did her the honour of singling her out, making much of her, teasing her a little, and wondering what would be the outcome if Hero were to race against her. The notion took extremely amongst the gallants gathered about the two ladies. Lady Royston’s admirers swore that no one could beat her ladyship, but a gentleman who had been present at Fakenham Manor at Christmas loyally stated his willingness to sport his blunt on Lady Sherry. In a very short space of time what had begun as the merest pleasantry became sober earnest. Lady Royston challenged Hero to race her over a given course, Hero accepted the challenge, judges and time-keepers were elected, rules agreed upon, a date fixed, and bets recorded.

  Epsom was to be the rendezvous; and the projected encounter soon became the most talked-of event in society. Hero, dreaming of a victory that would bring that warm look of pride into Sherry’s eyes, and place her amongst the most dashing of the Upper Ten Thousand, was blind to the signs that should have warned her that this exploit was a great deal too dashing to recommend her to the more austere leaders of society. Lady Sefton was out of town; Sherry was hunting in Leicestershire with Mr Ringwood and Lord Wrotham; even Miss Milborne was still at Severn Towers. The only person of experience to draw on the curb-rein was Mrs Bagshot, and since Sherry had freely stigmatised this lady and all her daughters as a parcel of dowds it was not surprising that Hero should not have attended to the severe lecture Cousin Jane read her. Mr Ringwood, returning to London a day later, with a heavy cold in his head, took to his bed, and therefore heard nothing of the Ladies’ Race; but Lord Wrotham, who had accompanied him to town, did hear of it, and although he was not one to set much store by convention, he felt uneasily that it was perhaps not quite the thing for Sherry’s wife to compete publicly in a