"He must do as he pleases," was the tempestuous reply. "I'm not going to worry myself about him. He can cut me off if he likes, just as yours did you. I've got a little money of my own, thank God! enough to live on quietly somewhere in the suburbs." He made a wry face as he spoke. "It'll be a bit of a change, but I shall have to lump that, and I daresay Cicely won't mind. There, Mostyn, old chap"--he came and stood by his friend's side--"You must forgive me if I'm excited, but you can see how it is and understand what I feel. I'm sorry that I shan't be with you at the races, but I should be a shockingly poor companion for you if I were. I can't be of any service, either, there's that at least to be said." And so at last matters were settled, though it was not without further parley. Mostyn succeeded in calming his friend after a while, and they sat down together and talked the matter out seriously and reasonably. Their deliberations, however, brought them to no new conclusion. Pierce's mind was made up, and he was quite prepared to defy his father and to bear the consequences. "You'll come for the wedding, Mostyn, won't you?" he asked, when the sitting came to an end. "It'll have to be an absolutely quiet affair. Lady Fenton and yourself will be the only two to be present. Cicely will be my wife long before Cipher wins the Derby for you." "I can quite believe that," commented Mostyn drily, though he understood the sense in which the remark had been intended. "Anyway, Pierce, I wish you luck, and I'm glad that you are going to do something to make Cicely happy." Thus it came about that, later that day, Mostyn found himself without his friend in the paddock of the Newmarket racecourse. He missed Pierce badly, for this was the first time that they had not been together when one of the races in which they were interested had been decided. There were, however, many faces that he knew. Rada and Captain Armitage had been driven over by Jack Treves. The latter had been settled at Partinborough for the last month or two, and had done his best to monopolise Rada. He had not intruded his company upon Mostyn, though, of course, it was inevitable that the two men should meet now and then. On these occasions Jack was surly, his malice but thinly veiled. Of Rada herself Mostyn had lately seen but little. A sense of restraint had arisen between them, and half instinctively they had avoided each other. But now she came to his side, and slipped a little soft hand into his. Just as soft as the hand were the dark eyes he looked into, the smile that played about her lips, and the tone in which she addressed him. "I do hope you'll win to-day, Mostyn," she murmured. "Asmodeus is a fine horse, and should make a fight for it. At any rate I wish you success, I do indeed."