Sir Roderick smiled a little and nodded now and again, quite conscious of his popularity and of that of his horse. It was the ambition of his life to win the Derby. He had tried many times and failed, but on the present occasion it looked as if he stood a good chance, for Hipponous had won the Middle Park Plate and was second favourite in the betting. Sir Roderick stood up on the box, his back turned to the course, and made a little speech to his guests. Lady Lempiere, who had occupied the place of honour by his side, and to whom his first remark had been addressed, turned too, as in duty bound. She was a well-known society dame, no longer young but still reputed for her beauty as well as for her success upon the turf. She fixed her eyes, which were blue and liquid and full of expression, upon Major Molyneux, who sat directly behind her, and who--or so her eyes seemed to say--might soon be by her side. He was her accepted cavalier, and it was an understood thing that wherever Lady Lempiere was asked Major Molyneux must also receive his invitation. "I want you all to understand that ceremony is a non-starter to-day," thus spoke Sir Roderick, "and this is to be a go-as-you-please race for all of you. There's lunch on the coach for any one at any time it's asked for, and the ice will give out before the wine does, though we've got a hundredweight on board. Bring as many of your friends as you like; there's enough for all. Don't worry about me: I shall probably be in the House--I mean the Paddock"--he corrected himself with a broad smile--"a place where I'm more in my element, and occasionally get listened to." He drew a deep breath as of relief at a duty performed. "Since I'm not at Westminster," he added, "I needn't talk for an hour when all I have to say is just comprised in two words: good luck!" The little speech was greeted with laughter and applause, applause in which none was so vociferous as an individual with a bibulous red face and a white beard, who had the carefully fostered appearance of a military man. This was Captain Armitage, and he occupied the back seat together with Mostyn Clithero, Pierce Trelawny, and a fourth man, Anthony Royce by name, who from his manner rather than his speech gave the impression of being an American. "I wonder," whispered Mostyn to his friend, "what makes the captain so particularly demonstrative?" "The idea that he'll soon get a drink, I expect," was the answer, spoken in an undertone, although Captain Armitage had turned his back and was airily waving his hand to his daughter, Rada, who sat on the front seat, pretending to listen with interest to the conversational inanities of young Lord Caldershot.