“I am afraid she has got something the matter with her sight,” was the reply. “When you first spoke to me on the subject, that day in the paddock, my lord,” added the lad, “I thought there was not a blemish about her, but this last week I have felt uneasy. Of course it is not easy to tell whether it is so or not; only, having been with her all her life, I notice what another person might not. I did not want to vex my brother unless I felt certain, so he knew nothing about the matter till he told me she was to be sent over to the Park.” “And then?” inquired Lord Kemms. “Then I mentioned my fear to him, and he said you ought to be informed of it. We knew, my lord, or, at least, we thought, you would not have her examined by a veterinary surgeon, coming from us; indeed, I doubt if any stranger could detect a thing wrong about her _now_.” “But you think there is?” For a moment Alick remained silent; he felt the hundred pounds Arthur wanted so badly might be had, if he only appeared doubtful; and Arthur, he knew, was fuming and fretting at home over his disappointment. The youth loved his brother, and was grateful to him; further, he was afraid of his temper; but still, right was right, and honour honour. “My lord, I know there is, though my brother does not believe it.” “Still you might have passed her off as sound upon me, even subject to a veterinary opinion?” “No, my lord; a jobber might, but _we_ could not,” amended Alick, looking every inch a Dudley as he spoke. “I stand corrected,” said Lord Kemms, with a laugh. “I quite see; the thing might be possible, but not to you. Now, what does your brother propose?” “To consider the bargain off,” was the prompt reply. “Nothing else?” inquired his lordship. “Or otherwise,” answered Alick, “to let you have her, giving an undertaking that if within six months my idea prove to have been correct, he will take her back and return your money.” “Evidently he is not of your opinion?” “No, my lord.” “Do you think you know more about horses than he?” “I think I know more about Nellie.” For a moment Lord Kemms looked hard in Alick Dudley’s face, which was frank, and young, and pleasant. He had not Arthur’s delicately-cut features,—he was cast altogether in a larger and a rougher mould; but he was the making of a finer man, the owner of Kemms Park decided. Looking at Alick’s face, he saw reflected as in a mirror the scene which had taken place at Berrie Down, and, perhaps, it was this which made him say, suddenly,— “Your brother was not very well pleased when you expressed your opinion to him, I suppose—blamed you, probably?” “When people are vexed, they usually blame the person nearest them at the time,” was Alick’s philosophic reply. “You suspected nothing of this when I spoke to you in the paddock. If I had bought her then, that is, if your brother had taken my offer then, you could have sent her to me with a clear conscience.”