"What?" "That's right, uncle. Lady Lisle came and saw him, didn't she, Sam?" "Yes, sir," growled Sam, still mopping his face. "But not dressed--not in my silk and boots?" "Oh, yes, uncle. Didn't she, Sam?" "Yes, sir; that's right enough." "Horror!" groaned Sir Hilton. "She'll never forgive me." "Worse than that, uncle. She saw that you were tight." "You young villain, it's not true!" roared Sir Hilton. "How dare you say that!" "Because it's true," cried Syd, lightly. "Isn't it, Sam?" "Yes, sir," faltered the man. "Wery screwed indeed." "Tell me the rest," groaned Sir Hilton in despair. "Fainted away, uncle; but I didn't stop to see. I had to look to you and the race. But afterwards Dr Jack Granton went back to the hotel and physicked her. Didn't he, Sam?" "Yes, sir, 'long o' Lady Tilborough; and they took her away in her ladyship's carriage to Oakleigh." "And then brought her home?" "I s'pose so, uncle. I dunno. I stuck to you. So did Sam." "Thank you, my boy--thank you, Simpkins. I'll talk to you another time. But, you see, I'm quite clear and well now." "Yes, Sir Hilton--thank goodness!" said the trainer, hoarsely. "Then, now, you had better have a glass of something and drive--What's that?" "Wheels, uncle. There goes the gate." The click, click, click came very plainly, and the next minute there were the steps of Jane and Mark in the hall. "Stop a moment," cried Sir Hilton. "What is it? Who is it come?" "Her ladyship, I think, Sir Hilton," cried Jane. "What! I thought she was at home." "No, sir. She went to Tilborough after you." "Uncle," cried Syd, "whatever shall we say?" He shrank back with his uncle into the drawing-room, and the door swung to, while the next moment they heard the front door open and Lady Lisle's voice. "Has Sir Hilton returned?" "Yes, my lady," replied Jane. "Ha!" Lady Lisle hurried into the drawing-room with stately stride, but she looked round in vain, and faced Lady Tilborough and Doctor Granton, who had followed her in, for the late occupants of the room had disappeared. So vast is woman's power over man. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. FURTHER IN. The sound of his wife's voice had a wonderful effect upon Sir Hilton for the moment, and, turning sharply, he rushed out of the drawing-room and down the passage leading to the servants' portion of the house. "Here, Sam," cried Syd, "come on and stop him. He's going into another fit." The boy dashed after his uncle, closely followed by the trainer, and they overtook him in the pale light of the kitchen, whose window faced the east, standing, panting hard, with his hand upon the table, where he was collared by one on each side. "What are you doing that for?" he cried. "Never you mind, Sir Hilton. You've got to stop here." "That's right, uncle. Come, steady! No larks." "Larks, sir? Let go. I insist. Let go, I tell you. I'm going to meet your aunt, Syd. I must have some explanation with her about all this."