"Has Miss Gay won, Mr. Chris?" she inquired, and he nodded, but did not pursue the subject. Evidently, he thought, Gay had been carried away by audacity and high spirits, for of course he did not know of the driver's mistimed conviviality that had given the girl her longed-for opportunity. And now they were baiting her, no doubt, that spiteful Lossie, and the hysterical Professor, and he not able to stand by her--she wanted someone badly... For a minute or two he racked his brains, then suddenly remembered Min Toplady, and leaving his dinner untouched, he turned to the telephone within reach, and picking up the book, found to his great relief her husband's number. He was lucky enough to get on quickly, and to his "Are you there?" it was Min's cheery voice that responded. "Yes--it's Chris Hannen. I want you to go at once to Miss Gay, she has had a trying day--no, you needn't say I sent you--only that you wanted to congratulate her on her success--you will go? Thanks--yes--she did it splendidly, you say? Never saw anything prettier? Rotten shame about Mr. Mackrell--something must be done--yes--you're going at once--good--'phone me to-night how she is, if possible--yes--good-bye." He replaced the receiver, and returned to his half-cold dinner with more appetite than he had begun it. Min Toplady was a doughty champion, capable of routing Lossie or the Professor with great slaughter, and Chris grinned to himself as he imagined the passages-at-arms likely to occur. Anyway, Gay would not stand alone, and with her own courage, and such a powerful backer, ought to pull through with honour. His spirits rose. Mrs. Summers, coming and going, was delighted to find him in such good fettle; she thought Miss Gay's success in winning the Gold Vase had something to do with it, and though privately a little shocked at the young lady's sporting tastes, she was glad of anything that did her young master good. But when she had left him, with his cigarette-case at his elbow, he got restless again; the quiet room, in which he had lived so much lately, got on his nerves, and a profound depression stole over him. He longed for someone to talk with; if he had not been such a confounded way from town, he would have called up one of his club friends, and got from him the popular opinion of the day's events at Waterloo Park. Most of all, he would have liked to see Carlton Mackrell, and as if the thought had summoned him, the door quietly opened, and that gentleman, announced by Mrs. Summers, walked into the room. CHAPTER XVIII MIN TO THE RESCUE "The very man I wanted to see," cried Chris as they shook hands. "You'll have some dinner? Mrs. Summers won't keep you waiting long." Mackrell shook his head.