passion of nervousness, and he had pity enough for her to move away when the horses were coming out of the paddock and the boys were being weighed. But just then Blair rode up to his wife’s side. His face was flushed, and he had a triumphant ring in his voice as he said to Elizabeth, while looking at Skelton sharply: “The boy is all right. I saw the horse saddled myself, and Hilary knows what to do in any emergency.” Skelton knew perfectly well, when Blair said “the boy is all right,” he meant the horse was all right. Blair’s face was menacing and triumphant; he began to talk to Skelton, who at once took it as a challenge to stay. Blair thought Skelton bound to lose, and those savage instincts that still dwell in every human breast came uppermost. At the moment, he wanted to enjoy his triumph over Skelton. Exactly the same thoughts burned in Skelton’s mind. An impulse of pity would have made him spare Mrs. Blair the pain of his presence, but he could feel no pity for Blair. The two horses were now prancing before the grand stand. Jaybird was a magnificent, clean-limbed bay, with an air of equine aristocracy written all over him. He was perfectly gentle, and even playful, and apparently knew quite well what was up. Lewis, his dark boyish face flushed, cantered him past the grand stand, and to the starting post, where Jaybird stood as motionless as a bronze horse. But not the slightest welcome was accorded Lewis Pryor. Not a cheer broke the silence, until old Tom Shapleigh, in his strident voice, sent up a great “Hurrah!” A few faint echoes followed. But one handkerchief was waved, and that was in Sylvia Shapleigh’s hand. Skelton, whose feelings during this could not be described, observed that Sylvia’s eyes were full of tears. The cruel indifference of the world then present was heart-breaking. Lewis, with his face set, looked straight before him, with proud unconsciousness even when a storm of applause broke forth for Hilary Blair. Alabaster’s behaviour was in total contrast to Jaybird’s well-bred dignity. He came out of the paddock kicking and lunging, and only the most perfect horsemanship on Hilary’s part kept him anywhere within bounds. The applause seemed to madden him; he reared, then came down on his front feet, trembling in every limb, not with fear but with rage. But, as Blair had said, he might as well try to throw a grasshopper as Hilary. The boy’s coolness and admirable management only caused the more applause, and this still more excited the black horse. Hilary was forced to give him a turn half way around the course to bring him down. During all this, poor Lewis sat like a statue at the starting post. Jaybird had had his warming-up gallop before, and Lewis felt that it would be like an effort to divide the applause of the crowd if he showed the bay off during Alabaster’s gyrations. But what would he not have given for some of the kind glances that were showered upon Hilary!