He was also a capital judge of a horse, and it was conjectured that he added to his certain income by these usually uncertain adjuncts.
On the evening of Blair's avowal in the Leyton Woods, Austin Ambrose sat over the dessert which followed his modest dinner.
A bottle of very fine claret was on the table, and he was sipping this in silent abstraction, when the door burst open, and Lord Blair rushed in.
Austin Ambrose looked up without a particle of surprise, but with a faint smile of irony.
"House on fire?" he said.
"My dear old chappie!" exclaimed Blair, laying his strong hand on Austin's shoulder, "I've such a lot to tell you! Austin, I've seen her!"
"Seen her? Seen whom?" said Austin raising his brows as if trying to recollect, whereas he had been thinking of the "her" as Blair rushed in. "Oh, the young lady, Miss—Miss Hale."
"Of course, of course!" exclaimed Blair, pacing up and down the room. "Austin, old fellow, I don't know where to begin. I've only just come back from Leyton and from her! Austin, she is an angel!"
"I dare say," was the cool comment. "And so you have been to Leyton. Another fight, Blair?"
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Lord Blair. "Be serious, old fellow. My heart is bursting with it all."