“Yes. Haven’t you heard of the pranks of Sir George Braithwaite, one of the typical hare-brained scamps of a generation ago? This lad is his son; his eldest brother, the present Sir George, had to sell the estate a few months ago, and it was then young Harold came to me, reminded me I was his godfather, and said, if I didn’t give him some work to do, he would hang himself on the gate-post as he went out. So I asked him what he could do, and he said he could ride. I told him I had no doubt of that; but he was a long way too heavy for a jockey. ‘Well, make me coachman, groom--anything,’ said he; ‘and, when once you get me into a stable, you’ll soon see I know more about my work than anybody there. You needn’t say who I am, and they’ll never find out I’m a gentleman,’ he ended, rather bitterly. Well, I couldn’t do that of course; but I got the lad to stay with me, for I was rather interested by his obstinacy, and thought I would find out what he could do. I soon found he could sit anything, break in anything, and could give points to most horsy men on any matter of training or going. So I made up my mind to give him a trial, and I set him up at Kirby Park and put some of my racers under his care. And of course two or three more have followed my example; and now the lad has his hands full, and has got a fair chance.” “It is a great responsibility for such a young man. He ought to be very grateful to you----” “Well, I hope I may have reason to be grateful to him. My only fear was as to whether he would stick to it. He was very wild a year or two ago, I’ve heard; but he seems steady enough now, as far as I can find out. I think I’ve got the right man in the right place, and that he feels in his element, and will settle down all right. We shall see.” With breathless interest Annie had listened to all this. This, then, was the occupation which her husband had found, and of which, according to Stephen, he was ashamed for her to hear! He had become a trainer. But Annie felt intoxicated with pride at the thought that her husband had shown a special capacity which proved him to be much more than the lazy, incompetent idler she used to consider him, that he had shown talent and had found a field for it, that, if he had taken her money without acknowledgment, he had at least not lived upon it in idle dependence. But this discovery only made the thought of his infidelity more bitter; in the very moment when she found that he possessed all the qualities which might have earned her respect as well as her devotion, she was hastening to a meeting which would fill him with disappointment and anger, and bring down upon herself his execration instead of his welcome.