"A white rose petal," said Reggie gallantly, "would be a more accurate simile. Have one of mine. They're Russian, and not paid for." Gwendoline helped herself delicately. "Reggie," she said, "never pays for anything; he thinks it's vulgar." "It certainly isn't common," observed Tony. "Reggie carries it to extremes, however. I remember his tailor once saying to him with tears in his voice, 'Ah, Mr. Seton, I shall either have to give you up or else take my lad away from Harrow. I can't afford the two.'" "And which did he do?" asked Gwendoline puffing out a little cloud of smoke. Tony waved his hand towards Reggie's perfect frock-coat. "There," he said, "is the answer." Gwendoline shook her head sadly. "I have always thought," she said, "that there was some dark secret in Reggie's life. Hallo, there's a bell. Let's put away these things and go and see what's happening." Between them, Tony and Musette quickly packed up the _débris_ of luncheon, and then, leaving the car in charge of a courteous, if somewhat heavily suborned, policeman, they all four made their way into the enclosure. As is usually the case on Cambridgeshire day, the Heath was packed in a manner which must have been highly gratifying to the directors of the race-course. On the further side of the track the spectators stretched away down to the bushes in a long continuous line, while both the stands and the enclosure were as full of people as such superior and expensive places could rightly expect to be. As soon as the first two races were over, there came a rush for the paddock, where the Cambridgeshire horses were being saddled. "I vote we stop where we are," said Tony, turning to the others. "What does any one say?" "Just as you please, as far as I'm concerned," said Reggie. "I like to have a look at the runners, but I'm always ready to be unselfish." Tony laughed. "Why, Reggie," he said, "if it wasn't for the tail you wouldn't know one end of a horse from the other." "Of course not," admitted Reggie calmly; "but I like to walk round and say that so-and-so looks a bit fine-drawn, and thingumybob a bit tucked up. It's wonderful how people always agree with you." "I shouldn't," said Gwendoline, with decision. "I never agree with you, Reggie, except when you tell me I'm beautiful." Tony raised his hand. "Don't quarrel, children," he said, "until after the race is over. I shall break down if you do." "Here they come!" cried Reggie, as the small group of men clustered round the entrance to the paddock suddenly scattered to right and left. "Look out for Little Eva." A handsome chestnut, his coat gleaming like new bronze in the mellow afternoon sunlight, was the first to appear. He came out sideways, prancing and shaking his head, and then, twisting round, galloped up past the stands, sending the earth flying beneath his heels. "That's Colchester, number twelve on the menu," said Tony. "He's the only one I'm afraid of."