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.