A CANTER is the cure for every evil, and brings the mind back to itself sooner than all the lessons of Chrysippus and Crantor. It is the only process that at the same time calms the feelings and elevates the spirits, banishes blue devils and raises one to the society of ‘angels ever bright and fair.’ It clears the mind; it cheers the heart. It is the best preparation for all enterprises, for it puts a man in good humour both with the world and himself; and, whether you are going to make a speech or scribble a scene, whether you are about to conquer the world or yourself, order your horse. As you bound along, your wit will brighten and your eloquence blaze, your courage grow more adamantine, and your generous feelings burn with a livelier flame. And when the exercise is over the excitement does not cease, as when it grows from music, for your blood is up, and the brilliancy of your eye is fed by your bubbling pulses. Then, my young friend, take my advice: rush into the world, and triumph will grow out of your quick life, like Victory bounding from the palm of Jove!

Our Duke ordered his horses, and as he rattled along recovered from the enervating effects of his soft reverie. On his way home he fell in with Mr. Dacre and the two Baronets, returning on their hackneys from a hard fought field.

‘Gay sport?’ asked his Grace.

‘A capital run. I think the last forty minutes the most splitting thing we have had for a long time!’ answered Sir Chetwode. ‘I only hope Jack Wilson will take care of poor Fanny. I did not half like leaving her. Your Grace does not join us?’

‘I mean to do so; but I am, unfortunately, a late riser.’

‘Hem!’ said Sir Tichborne. The monosyllable meant much.

‘I have a horse which I think will suit your Grace,’ said Mr. Dacre, ‘and to which, in fact, you are entitled, for it bears the name of your house. You have ridden Hauteville, Sir Tichborne?’

‘Yes; fine animal!’

‘I shall certainly try his powers,’ said the Duke. ‘When is your next field-day?’

‘Thursday,’ said Sir Tichborne; ‘but we shall be too early for you, I am afraid,’ with a gruff smile.

‘Oh, no!’ said the young Duke, who saw his man; ‘I assure you I have been up today nearly two hours. Let us get on.’

The first person that his Grace’s eye met, when he entered the room in which they assembled before dinner, was Mrs. Dallington Vere.

Dinner was a favourite moment with the Duke of St. James during this visit at Castle Dacre, since it was the only time in the day that, thanks to his rank, which he now doubly valued, he could enjoy a tête-à-tête with its blooming mistress.

‘I am going to hunt,’ said the Duke, ‘and I am to ride Hauteville. I hope you will set me an example on Thursday, and that I shall establish my character with Sir Tichborne.’

‘I am to lead on that day a bold band of archers. I have already too much neglected my practising, and I fear that my chance of the silver arrow is slight.’

‘I have betted upon you with everybody,’ said the Duke of St. James.

‘Remember Doncaster! I am afraid that May Dacre will again be the occasion of your losing your money.’

‘But now I am on the right side. Together we must conquer.’

‘I have a presentiment that our union will not be a fortunate one.’

‘Then I am ruined,’ said his Grace with rather a serious tone.

‘I hope you have not really staked anything upon such nonsense?’ said Miss Dacre.

‘I have staked everything,’ said his Grace.

‘Talking of stakes,’ said Lord St. Jerome, who pricked up his ears at a congenial subject, ‘do you know what they are going to do about that affair of Anderson’s?’

‘What does he say for himself?’ asked Sir Chetwode.

‘He says that he had no intention of embezzling the money, but that, as he took it for granted the point could never be decided, he thought it was against the usury laws to allow money to lie idle.’

‘That fellow has always got an answer,’ said Sir Tichborne. ‘I hate men who have always got an answer. There is no talking common sense with them.’

The Duke made his escape today, and, emboldened by his illustrious example, Charles Faulcon, Lord St. Jerome, and some other heroes followed, to the great disgust of Sir Chetwode and Sir Tichborne.

As the evening glided on conversation naturally fell upon the amusements of society.

‘I am sure we are tired of dancing every night,’ said Miss Dacre. ‘I wonder if we could introduce any novelty. What think you, Bertha? You can always suggest.’

‘You remember the tableaux vivants?’ said Mrs. Dallington Vere.

‘Beautiful! but too elaborate a business, I fear, for us. We want something more impromptu. The tableaux are nothing without brilliant and accurate costume, and to obtain that we must work at least for a week, and then, after all, in all probability, a failure. Ils sont trop recherchés,’ she said, lowering her voice to Mrs. Dallington, ‘pour nous ici. They must spring out of a society used to such exhibitions.’

‘I have a costume dress here,’ said the Duke of

St. James.

‘And I have a uniform,’ said Lord Mildmay.

‘And then,’ said Mrs. Dallington, ‘there are cashmeres, and scarfs, and jewels to be collected. I see, however, you think it impossible.’

‘I fear so. However, we will think of it. In the meantime, what shall we do now? Suppose we act a fairy tale?’

‘None of the girls can act,’ said Mrs. Dallington, with a look of kind pity.

‘Let us teach them. That itself will be an amusement. Suppose we act Cinderella? There is the music of Cendrillon, and you can compose, when necessary, as you go on. Clara Howard!’ said May Dacre, ‘come here, love! We want you to be Cinderella in a little play.’

‘I act! oh! dear May! How can you laugh at me so! I cannot act.’

‘You will not have to speak. Only just move about as I direct you while Bertha plays music.’

‘Oh! dear May, I cannot, ............