Daisy Simpson, as Mostyn soon found out, was the daughter of a well-to-do farmer in the neighbourhood. She was, according to Mrs. Willis, a "fast lot," notorious for her flirtations. Mostyn would not have enjoyed the conversation between Rada and Jack that followed his passing, had he overheard it. Yet, in a way, his mind might have been set at rest as to the existing relationship between the pair, and he would certainly have appreciated Rada's immediate championship of his name, when Jack applied an insulting epithet to it. "None of that, please, Jack," said the girl firmly, lifting a small but authoritative hand. "I may laugh at Mr. Clithero, if I choose, to his face, but I won't hear him abused behind his back. That's not cricket. Remember that he offered to give me back Castor for nothing, though he's got some wild sort of notion in his head that he must win a Derby before I do. He was tricked into buying Castor--there's no blinking at that fact--and he has taken his disappointment like a man." "Look here," said Jack, in a voice that would have been harsh had he been speaking to anyone but Rada, "I want to know how I stand. If I help you as you want me to----" "As you have promised," she interrupted. "Well, as I have promised. What I mean is, I can't have any sentimental foolery between you and any other chap, see? You say you won't marry me till this time next year in any case----" "Can I think of marrying," asked Rada, indignantly, "or give any promise even, when all my thoughts are fixed on Castor and the Derby? You've just got to wait, Jack." "All right," he grumbled, "though I don't think you're treating me fair. But this little service I'm doin' you will make a bit of a bond between us, Rada. I take it for as good as an engagement; you understand that, don't you?" "Yes, yes," said the girl petulantly, and with her usual thoughtlessness. "But don't worry me now, Jack. I'm all impatience to get this business settled. Let's go back to the stables." The man did not move. He was digging a hole in the soft earth with his heel. "No hurry," he said. "I brought you out here to talk this matter over. I know I'm all right up to date. Your father's quite ready that I should marry you; he knows I've got the brass. It's only you I'm not sure about since this fellow Clithero came along. You may have seen a lot of him in London, for all I can tell. What were you doin' round at the Grange the other night?" "So it was you, was it?" exclaimed Rada. "I thought so. You frightened me. Why were you hanging about the house? Was it because you thought I should be alone?" She spoke out fearlessly, and from the man's manner she knew she had divined the truth. "I was jealous," he muttered. It was a palpable lie, since he could not have known of Mostyn's arrival. Rada let it pass. She was too eagerly bent upon attaining her own desire to weigh consequences.