And then the spurs!  He would not forget the spurs.  She should know that he wore a spur, and that, if necessary, he would use it.  Then he, too, gave a little click with his tongue, and an acute observer might have seen the motion of his heel.

Two hours after that he was still sitting in the smoking-room, chewing the end of a cigar, when Doodles came down victorious from the billiard-room.  Archie was half asleep, and did not notice the entrance of his friend.  “Let her know that you’re there,” said Doodles, close into Archie Clavering’s ear; “damme, let her know that you’re there.”  Archie started, and did not like the surprise, or the warm breath in his ear; but he forgave the offence for the wisdom of the words that had been spoken.

Then he walked home by himself, repeating again and again the invaluable teachings of his friend.

During breakfast on the following day—­which means from the hour of one till two, for the glasses of iced gin-and-water had been many—­Archie Clavering was making up his mind that he would begin at once.  He would go to Bolton Street on that day, and make an attempt to be admitted.  If not admitted to-day, he would make another attempt to-morrow; and, if still unsuccessful, he would write a letter—­not a letter containing an offer, which, according to Archie’s ideas, would not be letting her know that he was there in a manner sufficiently potential; but a letter in which he would explain that he had very grave reasons for wishing to see his near and dear connection, Lady Ongar.  Soon after two he sallied out, and he also went to a hairdresser’s.  He was aware that in doing so he was hardly obeying his friend to the letter, as this sort of operation would come rather under the head of handling a filly with a light touch; but he thought that he could in this way, at any rate, do no harm, if he would only remember the instructions he had received when in the presence of the trained mare.

Chapter XX

Captain Clavering Makes His First Attempt

It was nearly three when Archie Clavering found himself in Bolton Street, having calculated that Lady Ongar might be more probably found at home then than at a later hour.  But when he came to the door, instead of knocking, he passed by it.  He began to remember that he had not yet made up his mind by what means he would bring it about that she should certainly know that he was there.  So he took a little turn up the street, away from Piccadilly, through a narrow passage that there is in those parts, and by some stables, and down into Piccadilly, and again to Bolton Street, during which little tour he had made up his mind that it could hardly become his duty to teach her that great lesson on this occasion.  She must undoubtedly be taught to know that he was there, but not so taught on this, his first visit.  That lesson should quickly precede his offer; and, although he