"He'll do," Henry decided. "I'll get him to offer for me.

A roar of unrestrained glee greeted this announcement.

"Within six weeks, Henry?" George asked.

"Of course," she answered. "What is so difficult about ensnaring a conceited town fop?"

"Town fop? Eversleigh? Oh, Lord," Giles gasped, collapsing into laughter again.

I don't have to marry him, anyway," Henry decided crossly. "The wager is only that I receive a proposal. Is it not, Douglas?"

"Oh, say," he said, "how will I know that you tell the truth if you don't marry the man to prove it?"

Both Henry and Giles stiffened. "My sister don't lie," Giles said, all laughter wiped from his face.

"It don't signify, anyway," George said practically. "She ain't going to win."

Henry clucked her tongue in impatience. "Let us get to the point," she said. "What do I win if you lose this wager, Douglas?"

He considered for a moment. "A new high-perch phaeton for a wedding present," he said.

"I Say!"- she replied, surprised. "That is splendid of you. Can you afford it, Douglas?"

He bowed stiffly. "That ain't a ladylike question, Henry."

"What must I forfeit in the unlikely event that I lose?" she asked airily.

He grinned. "Your horse will do," he said, glancing appreciatively at the gleaming black coat of the stallion she held by the reins.

"Jet?" she said uncertainly. "He was Papa's."

"Yes, but he's yours now, Henry. You won't have much use for him in London, anyway. And you would have to learn to ride him sidesaddle."