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296 of the baronet. The dinner had been an eminent success, for a December day's drive across the plains gives a healthy craving to even the most fastidious, and however remiss the larder of the "Dragon" may have been, its cellars and garden had proved themselves to be beyond reproach. Curiously enough, Mr. Heron's political views happened to coincide exactly with those of Sir Henry, and they applauded Fox and execrated the Alliance in harmonious unison. Furthermore, the emotions with which a man sits down to a denied repast are very different from those with which he would regard a humbly proffered dish of broken meat flavoured with herbs. Both Sir Henry and his wife declared enthusiastically that they had never tasted anything like it (which was more than probable), and thereat the blushing hostess had to present herself to receive their congratulations.

As Will cantered back along the road he had come a few hours earlier he turned half round to catch a glimpse of the lights behind him at the last point they showed upon his path. "Its own reward!" he murmured whimsically, repeating to himself the last gay words with which he had put aside the landlady's heartfelt thanks. And truly, when he came to reckon it up, his generous service and resource carried little to a material credit; for his timely rescue of the "Dragon's" honour cost Will Heron just two thousand guineas, that sum being the (unset) value of the diamond necklace which, as his information went, Lady Verney was carrying back to town with her.

The "Dragon" has long passed away, but before it sank into its final stage of senile decrepitude it enjoyed an era of prosperity which overshadowed all its former glories. Gradually it began to be known that at the "Dragon" of Swafton, and nowhere else, was to be obtained a certain pie of exquisite flavour and secret con-