After the race, they were joined by some of the gentlemen of their party. George Gage came up to his sister and leaned against the railing by her side, in that frame of mind so common to English people, which is called an ill-humour.
"Have you lost, George?" asked Elizabeth.
"No. I have no inducement to bet here," said Mr. Gage; "a miserable counterfeit of a race like this. I keep my losses for Epsom."
"And whereabouts is Harriet?"
"On the other side of the course with Charles Conway, and Lord Raymond. I congratulate her very much upon her choice. The fellow seems to have been born and bred in a stable."
"I hardly know him," said Elizabeth; "but I am afraid Harriet will be very tired, riding about so long, I wish she could be persuaded to sit quietly here until we go home."
"I will try if you wish it," said Mr. Gage, "but it can hardly be expected that she should leave so great an attraction as Lord Raymond."
"Go," said Elizabeth laughing, "I don't imagine his Lordship to be so irresistible."
As Mr. Gage was leaving the stand, he encountered the two officers before mentioned, who had crept to some distance from the ladies. One of these worthies had only lately exchanged from Mr. Gage's regiment into the one he now adorned, and he presented his companion to George.
There was some bowing, and lifting of hats and shaking of hands, and then George invited them to dine at his father's before the ball, and join their party thither, to which they readily agreed.