May was too surprised to speak. She sat on the arm of Fielden's chair. She did not seem to notice that his arm was around her, and that her head was very near his shoulder. She did not seem to care about anything now that Fielden was with her, and there was a link between the past and the present. It was a fascinating story which Fielden had to tell, much more remarkable than anything May had ever read of between the covers of a sporting novel. When the recital was finished she wiped the tears from her eyes, and a happy smile broke over her face. On the spur of the moment she bent down and kissed her companion. "Did any one ever hear the like of it?" she exclaimed. "It seems almost too good to be true. It is more like a fairy story than literal fact. But I am glad for your sake, for my sake, and for my father's sake. For he is my father, and it is possible that in his position I might have acted in a like heedless and foolish way. It would have been a terrible blow for him to leave Haredale Park. It is only since I have been in lodgings that I have come to realize what it means to have no home, what it was to turn out of such a dear old place as Haredale. But, Harry, we don't appear to be out of the wood yet. It will be a bitter disappointment to Mr. Copley and his colleague to be deprived of their chance of swindling the public. I am sure Mr. Copley will be none the less vindictive against my father, because this was no fault of his. I am afraid we shall have to leave Haredale in any case." "I don't think so," Fielden said. "Before long Copley will be powerless. We shall be able to hang on till Derby Day; then the gallant colt will win fortunes for all of us, and I shall be a rich man again. I shall be able to restore the old house and buy back the land, and then I shall have a home fit to ask my wife to. After that we shall be happy, only there won't be any more betting and gambling, because I have learnt my lesson, and it will be all the more effectual and lasting because it has been bitter. Meanwhile nobody knows anything about your trouble with your father except myself and, I presume, Miss Carden. You are supposed to be on a visit to London for a few days. It is lucky you have no maid to make mischief. I must return to Haredale this evening. Let me tell your father that I have explained everything to you, that you are coming back on Monday or Tuesday, and that Miss Carden will accompany you. I know Sir George will be glad to see you. He told me he could not understand how he spoke to you as he did. And, you see, as there is no one to follow your father, as the title will die out with him, Haredale Park will be your own some day. I know you love the place."