‘Please let me read it. I cannot wait.’ He handed it to her silently, and it fluttered in her hands as she perused it;— ‘_Crackpot scratched. No end of a row._’ ‘I do not know what that means,’ she said, tremulously. ‘Scratched—will you please explain.’ ‘It means,’ said he, reluctantly, ‘that your brother has withdrawn his horse at the last moment from the race; and from the last part of the telegram, I am afraid there must be an impression that—that——’ ‘That he has not dealt honourably,’ she said, quickly and breathlessly. ‘I want to know a little more, please, Mr. Langstroth. Is it not usual to withdraw a horse in this way?’ ‘No. At least, it is a great pity when it has to be done. It is particularly a great pity that your brother should have had to do it the first time a horse of his was running. Some men do it pretty often; and then, you know, they get a bad name, and are not considered——’ ‘Honourable. I understand. But will he have done it without any reason? Can you say, just at the last, “I have changed my mind, and my horse shall not run?”’ ‘Most likely it is given out that Crackpot is ill, and unfit to run. Nay, it may be that he is so. Do not distress yourself about it,’ he added, eagerly. ‘I will find out all that I can about it, and let you know. Everything will be uncertain now, of course.’ She was still standing by the table, looking at him with haggard eyes, and as he spoke thus, she shook her head. ‘No, no!’ said she. ‘Just once, while I was in London, I happened to be at a regatta, with my friends, and Otho was there too. And I saw a disagreeable-looking man come up to him, who did not know I had anything to do with him. They talked together for a little while, and I did not hear what they said, till suddenly the man said, “But mind you, Askam, none of your tricks. You are a slippery customer at the best.” I felt so indignant that I turned round quite angrily; and then he saw that I knew Otho, and they laughed, and moved a little to one side.’ ‘I don’t see that that incident has any necessary connection with this,’ said he, quietly. ‘You can do nothing, you know, Miss Askam. Do not distress yourself needlessly. To do that is to render yourself powerless when any real emergency arises.’ ‘Yes, I know,’ said she, and paused. He looked at her, and saw that she looked worn and anxious. ‘Is there anything else I could do for you?’ he began. ‘Because I should be so glad——’ ‘No, thank you, nothing, except to promise that should you hear anything more about the thing, you will let me know.’ ‘That I certainly will,’ said he, and rose to take his leave. ‘You still remain amongst us, in Bradstane,’ he observed, gravely, but kindly, as he held out his hand. ‘Yes,’ said Eleanor, with a quick flush. ‘I do not wish to go away. I—I intend to stay here.’ ‘Always?’ ‘I think—always.’ She spoke steadily, but did not look at him.