May turned away, and left the library with her head held high and a bright colour burning her cheeks. She was very near to tears, but was grateful for the pride which had carried her through this trying interview without the semblance of a breakdown. When they were alone Sir George turned to his companion. "I wouldn't have believed it," he said apologetically. "I never expected that May would be so disobedient. But you must make allowance for her. I daresay in time----" "Never," Copley said emphatically. "She means every word she says. If you had half the pluck and grit she has you would never have found yourself in your present position. We have made a mistake, Haredale; we have gone the wrong way to work. I don't blame you any more than myself, but you may depend upon it that your daughter will never be my wife. She will keep her word; she will go out into the world, if necessary, to earn her own living, and I shouldn't wonder if she made a very good one. I must put up with my disappointment, I suppose. I would give half I possess to be able to say that your daughter was my wife. But there must be none of these harsh measures, Haredale. Just think what people would say! We should both be boycotted. The thing would get into the papers and your life wouldn't be worth living. We must find some other way out. Now let us change the subject." Sir George was perfectly willing. Despite his selfish obstinacy the interview had been a trial to him, and he was exceedingly glad to get it over. "What else have you in your mind?" he asked. "Oh, business, of course. About the Blenheim colt? I am taking it for granted that you will scratch him. I don't see very well how you can back out. I have made the arrangements with Absalom & Co., and as they have withdrawn their action they will expect you to do your part. Now what do you say to letting the colt have a run in the Champion Stakes next week at Mirst Park? I thought it would be a very good way of getting out. To begin with, the public will be glad to see whether or not their fears are justified, and if the horse cuts up badly, why, then, you can scratch him at once. It would appear absolutely fair and above board; in fact, it will be. Or, if you like, you can let it be understood that the horse is not quite fit and that you still have hopes of getting him in fettle for the Derby. Either seems a good scheme." "I see," Sir George said thoughtfully. "Yes, on the whole, that isn't a bad idea of yours. I shall be glad to get it over, too. I hadn't the slightest intention of sending the colt to Mirst Park, but Raffle reports that he is much fitter to-day, so that there is no reason why I should not adopt your suggestion. There is the chance that people will blame me for taking the risk, but, at the outside, that will be the worst of it. I will talk it over with Raffle in the morning, and let you know definitely."