Lossie had an immense contempt for the "giving out" process of love as practised by Aunt Lavinia, the more especially when it took the form of cheques better employed in paying the milliners' bills of her niece, nor was the Professor more appreciative, for he seldom or never went to see his father's sister in South Street, though he welcomed her cordially enough on her rare visits to Connaught Square. Perhaps it was because (as he had long ago suspected) she reluctantly recognised him as lazy, self-indulgent, ruined by his too abundant means, amiable with the tepid amiability of a dog who does not fight, and by blandishments hopes to be allowed to retain his bone. Hall-marked he was, with the special form of selfishness that makes the man completely happy in his bodily environment, and mental pursuits and hobbies, shun the society of his kind, and to whom it is a matter of complete indifference that "grass-grown become the paths to friendship that are never trod." He usually (in quite unconscious antagonism) ordered twenty pounds worth of new books when through Lossie he heard of some preposterously good deed done by Lavinia, but to go and do likewise simply never occurred to him, nor did it at that time to Gay, who, without knowing it, was selfish also. Yet, but for this blessed privilege of youth, where would beautiful, much-abused youth be? Gay was young, full of life and spirits, and would have to suffer a bit herself before she vividly realised the sufferings of others, even if she responded readily enough to any demand on her purse, if not her time. All of this Lavinia perfectly understood, but much as she loved the girl, Chris, whose mother's friend she had been was the very light of her eyes. CHAPTER VI AT KEMPTON A bright, frosty morning broke for Kempton's second day, and at Epsom, Chris Hannen whistled and sang while he cold-tubbed and dressed, in sheer light-heartedness born of the pleasing conviction of training and riding another winner before the day was out. Besides, Gay was coming to witness his triumph, and the prospect of some hours in her society was enough to make any man happy, he thought, while her "Never mind, old chap; better luck next time," would considerably soften the disappointment if he got beaten. Having seen his horse started for the station, he himself followed later on his way to town to pick up Gay. That young lady was as cheerful as Chris as she went about the house fixing things up, and arranging for her brother's comfort during her absence. "Now don't get into mischief, Heron," she had told him at breakfast. "I shall be back soon after five, and I'll tell you all about how Chris gets on. I _know_ you'll be interested to hear, won't you?" she added teasingly.