"I was talking the other day to Secretary Roswick of our State Fair," went on Aunt Lucretia calmly, "and was entering some of my own things. Now, Roswick, you know, makes me put up about half of his programmes. He has asked me to get up some novelties on the side. We’ll just have a hurdle race if you say so." "Capital, capital!" said Goff, for the first time showing excitement. Then he quieted down suddenly. "What am I thinking about? What, in this unregistered country, could go against Nestor, champion hurdler of his class?" "Satan," said Aunt Lucretia, smiling sweetly. "Fawncy!" shouted the Colonel decisively. "I’ll lay you five hundred that he can," said my Aunt, "and I don’t know a thing in the world about your game." "Madam," said Goff, quietly, "I have never taken an unfair advantage of a woman." "Colonel Goff," said my Aunt very seriously, "you know as well as you know anything, that if I know anything it is horses, that I am of age, and that I am good for all my obligations. I’ll bet you five hundred dollars that Satan will beat your horse at his own game." "Do you know, madam," said Goff, "that a jumping horse is born to jump? Not one in a thousand can go over a three-foot hurdle, and this brute of yours—" "Brute?" said Eloise, icily. "Brute, Colonel Goff, he is an angel! He can do anything." "And you will ride him?" he asked. "Nobody else can," said my Aunt. "Yes, she’ll ride him and beat you, too." "I’ll take your bet," said he. "I’d give five hundred dollars to ride once in a race with the only girl in America who is really English. How she ever got into this blooming country I can’t see!" I left my Aunt and the Colonel arranging their new game for the Cumberland meeting. I did not take much interest in Eloise riding against him! I had ordered my horse, intending to ride over to Ned’s; I wanted to see my pets there, Little Sister, and Captain Skipper and the new arrival. Eloise followed me through the wood lot. She came up and slipped her arm through mine, and its very touch carried a sadness, it seemed as if the quick electric pulse was gone. In her eyes there was a weariness, an indefinable longing. It touched me to see her so, my live, light-hearted, foster sister of old. "Jack," she sighed, "I am—I am—" She stopped and looked up into my face. "What?" I asked. "I should think you would be happy, so soon to marry an Earl." "It is sooner than you suppose," she said seriously. "He does not wish it known yet because the proper notification has not come from his attorneys in England, but—but—Jack—Jack, his brother is already dead and he wants me to marry him. I have already promised to marry him next month." I knew she saw me pale. I could have cursed myself for the weakness.