pulled off the event.  It had been a match for four hundred pounds, made indeed by Lord Silverbridge, but made at the suggestion of Tifto;—­ and now Tifto wrote in a very bad humour about it.  It had been altogether his Lordship’s fault in submitting to carry two pounds more than Tifto had thought to be fair and equitable.  The match had been lost.  Would Lord Silverbridge be so good as to pay the money to Mr Green Griffin and debit him, Tifto, with the share of the loss?

We must acknowledge that the unpleasant tone of the Major’s letter was due quite as much to the ill-usage he had received in reference to that journey to Silverbridge, as to the loss of the race.  Within that little body there was a high-mounting heart, and that heart had been greatly wounded by his Lordship’s treatment.  Tifto had felt himself to have been treated like a servant.  Hardly an excuse had even been made.  He had been simply told that he was not wanted.  He was apt sometimes to tell himself that he knew on which side his bread was buttered.  But perhaps he hardly knew how best to keep the butter going.  There was a little pride about him which was antagonistic to the best interests of such a trade as his.  Perhaps it was well that he should inwardly suffer when injured.  But it could not be well that he should declare to such men as Nidderdale, and Dolly Longstaff, and Popplecourt that he didn’t mean to put up with that sort of thing.  He certainly should not have spoken in this strain before Tregear.  Of all men living he hated and feared him the most.  And he knew that no other man loved Silverbridge as did Tregear.  Had he been thinking of his bread-and-butter, instead of giving way to the mighty anger of his little bosom, he would have hardly declared openly at the club that he would let Lord Silverbridge know that he did not mean to stand any man’s airs.  But these extravagances were due perhaps to whisky-and-water, and that kind of intoxication which comes to certain men from momentary triumphs.  Tifto could always be got to make a fool of himself when surrounded by three or four men of rank who, for the occasion, would talk to him as an equal.  He almost declared that Coalition had lost her match because he had not been taken down at Silverbridge.

‘Tifto is in a deuce of a way with you,’ said Dolly Longstaff to the young member.

‘I know all about it,’ said Silverbridge, who had had an interview with his partner since the race.

‘If you don’t take care he’ll dismiss you.’

Silverbridge did not care much about this, knowing that words of wisdom did not ordinarily fall from the mouth of Dolly Longstaff.  But he was more moved when his friend Tregear spoke to him.  ’I wish you knew the kind of things that fellow Tifto says behind your back.’

‘As if I cared.’

‘But you ought to care.’

‘Do you care what every fellow says about you?’

’I care very much what those say whom I choose to live with me.  Whatever Tifto might say about me would be quite indifferent to me, because we have nothing in common.  But you and he are bound together.’