"No, Jack, I can't. It would break my wife's heart if I did, and she really is very fond of me." "Very well; I won't press you, old man. But, I say, you think La Sylphide will win?" "It's a dead cert. Have you anything on?" "All I'm worth, dear boy. Have you?" "I? Nonsense! I haven't made a bet these two years." "Then now's your time." "No, no: I've done with that sort of thing." "But, personally, you are not flush of money, are you?" "I? Never was so short in my life." The doctor laughed. "Seize the chance, then, to make a thou' or two." "Impossible." "Nonsense! You say yourself the mare's sure to win." "Bar accidents, she must." "Then make your game." "No; I have no money." "Why, you said just now that her ladyship had placed four thou' to your credit in her bank." "For my electioneering exes." "Bosh! To use. Put on the pot and make it boil. Why, man, you could clear enough on the strength of that coin lying idle to set you up for a couple of years." "Ye-e-es," said Sir Hilton, who began biting at his nails. "Might, mightn't I?" "Of course. Why, you would be mad to miss the chance." "It does sound tempting." "Tempting? Of course. It isn't as if there was any gambling in it." "Exactly. There would be no gambling in it?" "Of course not. If it were some horse whose character you did not know, it would be different. But here you are--your own mare, whom you know down to the ground. Your own jockey, too. Look here, dear boy, La Sylphide can't help winning. You'd be mad to miss this chance. I should say, go and see the run, but I give way to your scruples there; but when I see you chucking away a pile of money I begin to kick." Sir Hilton rose and walked up and down the room, as his old friend and companion continued talking, and ended by coming back to the table and bringing down his fist with a bang. "Yes," he cried, "it would be madness to miss the chance. By Jove! I'll do it." "Bravo, old man!" "I'll put it in your hands, Jack. Get on for me all you can." "Up to what?" "All I've got in the bank. Four thou'." "Do you mean it?" "Of course." "Well done, old chap. That's Hilt up to the hilt, like in the old times." "Pst! Someone coming," said the baronet, dropping into a chair. "We didn't hear the chaise. It's my wife." CHAPTER FIVE. A LAMENTABLE CASE. Lady Lisle swept into the room, fresh from the pony-carriage, looking rather stern and haughty, her brows knitting at the sight of the breakfast things, and then rising a little as she saw the gallant-looking gentleman who rose and advanced to meet her. "Dr Granton!" "At your service, Lady Lisle. I was in the neighbourhood, and rode over to see my dear old friend, but I am just off. I congratulate you. How well he looks!" "I am glad you think so. But--you have only just come. Will you not stay? My husband must have a good deal to say to you." "We could talk for hours, my dear madam, but I must be going on."