“Because I have a wife, Madam, who can do it so much better; because I have a wife who plucks a carnation out of a man's coat, and wears it in her bosom, and this on an open race-course, where people can talk of it! and a woman with such rare tact ought to be of service to her husband, eh?” She swayed to and fro in her saddle for an instant as though about to fall, but she grasped the horn with both hands and saved herself. “Is that all?” muttered she, faintly. “Not quite. Tell Trafford to come round to my dressing-room, and I 'll give him a hint or two about the horse. He must come at once, for I have only time to change my clothes and start. You can make some excuse to the people for my absence; say that the old Judge has had another attack, and I only wish it may be true. Tell them I got a telegram, and _that_ may mean anything. Trafford will help you to do the honors, and I 'll swear him in as viceroy before I go. Is n't that all that could be asked of me?” The insolence of his look as he said this made her turn away her head as though sickened and disgusted. “They want you at the weighing-stand, Colonel Sewell,” said a gentleman, riding up. “Oh, they do! Well, say, please, that I 'm coming. Has he given you that black horse?” asked he, in a hurried whisper. “No; he offered him, but I refused.” “You had no right to refuse; he's strong enough to carry _me_; and the ponies that I saw led round to the stable-yard, whose are they?” “They are Captain Trafford's.” “You told him you thought them handsome, I suppose, didn't you?” “Yes, I think them very beautiful.” “Well, don't take them as a present. Win them if you like at piquet or écarté,--any way you please, but don't take them as a gift, for I heard Westenra say they were meant for you.” She nodded; and as she bent her head, a smile, the very strangest, crossed her features. If it were not that the pervading expression of her face was at the instant melancholy, the look she gave him would have been almost devilish. “I have something else to say, but I can't remember it.” “You don't know when you'll be back?” asked she, carelessly. “Of course not,--how can I? I can only promise that I'll not arrive unexpectedly, Madam; and I take it that's as much as any gentleman can be called on to say. Bye-bye.” “Good-bye,” said she, in the same tone. “I see that Mr. Balfour is here. I can't tell who asked him; but mind you don't invite him to luncheon; take no notice of him whatever; he'll not bet a guinea; never plays; never risks anything,--even his _affections!_” “What a creature!” “Isn't he! There! I'll not detain you from pleasanter company; good-bye; see you here when I come back, I suppose?” “Most probably,” said she, with a smile; and away he rode, at a tearing gallop, for his watch warned him that he was driven to the last minute.