"Yes," she replied, and unresistingly allowed him to take her in his arms. He clutched her to his breast in an almost savage embrace, while he showered kisses on her lips. Passively she submitted to his caresses, though she loathed them and him from the bottom of her soul. By a strong effort of will, she managed to control herself so as not to show the repulsion with which he filled her. "And I have promised to marry this man!" she thought. "How shall I ever be able to live with him!" As she gently disengaged herself from him, he saw that she was deathly white. "Oh, Kitty!" he exclaimed. "If you would only love me!" "Love was not in our compact," she said, with a tremor. "You shall love me," he responded. "When we are married, you must love me." But the girl said nothing. Then he asked if she would not accompany him to the races. "You are sure to bring me luck," he cried. Reminding him that she was still in the deepest of mourning, she declined, wondering how the man should be so unfeeling. "For the moment I had forgotten," he returned, apologetically. "It was very thoughtless of me--pray forgive me; but wish me luck all the same, will you not, Kitty?" Kitty, however, was hurt, and would give him no answer. Bennet regarded her for an instant or two, a heavy frown gathering on his face. "You refuse to wish me luck!" he cried. "I do everything you ask me to do, and yet you won't wish me good luck! For your sake I have forgone my claim on the Eversleighs, and you haven't one good word for me! Kitty, I warn you not to cross me, not to make me angry. Thanks to you, the Eversleighs owe me no money--that is true, but remember that if I were to whisper in certain quarters what I know about the firm, its credit would not last very long." "What! You would do such a thing!" "It depends on you, Kitty, and on you alone. Be my friend--I know you cannot, perhaps, love me all at once, but be my friend; in our circumstances surely this is not much to ask from you." "What would you have me do?" "Wish me luck, Kitty--that's a very little thing!" "I have always heard, Mr. Bennet," the girl said, looking at him steadily, "that this racing is your ruin." "Oh, you preach, do you!" ejaculated Bennet, with a scowl, and, without another word, turned on his heel and left her, while Kitty bitterly asked herself if her sacrifice was to go for nothing. An hour or two later, Bennet was at Doncaster, in close confabulation with Bob Deans, the jockey who was to ride Go Nap. "You understand thoroughly?" inquired Bennet, as he was going back to his hotel. "Yes, guv'nor, I understand perfectly," replied the jockey. "You can depend on me." But Bob Deans made a face behind the other's back. "He's a daisy," he said to himself, "that's what he is!" The first day of the Doncaster September meeting passed by without special incident. Bennet had several bets on the different events, but at the end his book nearly balanced; it was a trifle against him.