Soon afterwards I had forgotten the disagreeable things myself in excitement over the great race of the day. The race lay between an English horse and a little mare called Brandon Biddy, that came of stock from my grandfather's stables, so that my excitement was at once a family affair and an affair of patriotism. Some one on the hill had brought us a little glass, so that I was able to watch the mare's green and white, as the horses and their jockeys spread themselves over the course like a many-coloured ribbon. The mare won by a length, and all at once I forgot myself and shouted as wildly as anyone there, though, as everyone was shouting, it wasn't likely that I should be noticed. However, when I discovered what I had been betrayed into doing, I felt myself turning crimson. I shut up the race-glasses sharply and took a furtive look round to see if anyone had observed me. The crowd on the hill-side was laughing and cheering and shaking hands all round; and some men were even flinging their hats in the air again and again in the exuberance of their delight. I was sure I had not been noticed, and I was able to turn to Esther and answer her "Oh, Hilda, isn't it splendid?" with a cheerful affirmative. But just then I saw, standing quite near us, the gentleman who had been with Miss Pettigrew earlier in the day. His face was full of amusement, and it flashed upon me in a minute that he had been watching my ridiculous capers. I was furious, and looked so, I suppose, for his amused look gave way to one of such gentleness and deprecation, that I felt my anger quite giving way. Though I was sure that I should never cease to blush for having appeared so ridiculous. However, just then the boys came up. "They're saddling for the last race," cried Hugh, "and we'd better be making our way out of this crush, or we won't get home till midnight with the old mare. We'll see the last race just as well from the Upper Road." We agreed, and I was delighted with the boy's foresight, for I didn't want to be coming through the gap side by side with all the carriages and drags. So we turned our Rosinante around, and came down from the hill and across a field, and through the gap, where half an hour later there would be such a tremendous struggle for precedence. The mare was eager for her stable and trotted briskly enough over the grass fields to the road. We halted to see the last race run, and then we turned from the Upper Road into a quiet by-road which would take us to Brandon village by a slight detour. By taking it we should escape the crowd, and as we turned off the highroad and caught in the distance already the shouting and tumult that showed the people were trying to get first through the gap, I heaved a deep sigh of relief. Then I turned to the others with a smile. "Well," said I, "we've had a delightful day and no harm done. All's well that ends well!"