Of course, she had misunderstood, "So you have bought Pollux!" she had cried. "It makes no difference to my chances, of course, but I didn't think that you"--there was a world of reproach in her tone--"would have fought me to the end. I shall hate you if Pollux wins--I shall really hate you." There was something of the old defiance in her tone. "Rada," he had said, striving hard to give her a hint, "remember our wager. It was your life or my life. If Pollux wins----" If Pollux won, he could claim his reward, he could ask Rada to marry him; if Pollux failed, she was lost to him for ever--he would be a beggar. But Rada interrupted him. She would not understand. She bit her lip and stamped her foot. "So you are still thinking of that foolish challenge?" she cried. "You are still fighting to win a Derby before me? I think you are mean, mean and cowardly. I--I----" She had broken off and run away from him, but he was certain that there were tears in her eyes, and he had hated himself for the pain he gave her. But there was nothing to be done. He must wait, bear her disdain, till after the Derby, and then if Pollux won he could explain. If Pollux lost, why, then, everything must go. It didn't matter. He left for London the next day, and did not see Rada again. But he was bound to meet her at Epsom--he thought of the meeting with mingled feelings. It was as he mused thus, that visitors, who turned out to be Pierce and Cicely, were announced. They had been married now for some three weeks, and they had but just returned to London from a visit which they had been paying to Pierce's father in Worcestershire. They had gone down in fear and trepidation as to the manner in which they would be received by the bluff and rather choleric old squire. The latter had made no sign when the news reached him of his son's intention to disobey the strict injunctions laid upon him. The marriage had taken place just as Pierce had schemed it out, and the two young people had gone to Paris for a brief honeymoon. While there, Pierce had received a summons, worded with characteristic brevity, to return to England with his wife, and to present himself at the parental domain. So much Mostyn knew; of the result of their visit he had not yet heard a word. Evidently nothing very tragic had occurred, for Pierce and Cicely entered laughing, and palpably in the best of spirits. Mostyn kissed his sister affectionately; she looked charming as a young bride, and there was colour in her cheeks such as he had not seen there for many a long day. Pierce, too, scrupulously dressed as ever, seemed particularly well satisfied with himself and with the world at large. "Well, how is it?" asked Mostyn. "Have you been forgiven and taken back to the fold?"