"It's getting late," she said impatiently. "We must be going, Jack." She tugged at his sleeve, seeking vainly to induce him to rise. "Tell me first," he said, "that this fellow Clithero is nothing to you. I'm not afraid of anything else. Whether Castor wins the Derby or not you'll be engaged to me this time next year. But let me hear you say what I want." "Mr. Clithero is nothing to me, nothing at all," exclaimed Rada, biting her lip. "I only met him once before that evening at the Grange, and then I was rude to him. I was rude to him again that night. I expect he hates me, and will hate me all the more because of Castor." She spoke vehemently, just as the words came to her lips. "Good!" Jack rose languidly and slowly from the bench. "Then we'll be gettin' back and I'll do as you ask me." He passed his arm under hers with an air of proprietorship; then, as they stood under the shadow of the trees, stooped to kiss her. She started away from him. "No, not that, Jack," she cried. "Don't treat me like another Daisy Simpson. I'm not that sort. We're not engaged yet, whatever we may be next year. If you want me you've got to wait, and that's irrevocable." "All right," grumbled the man. "But you're a maddenin', aggravatin' little vixen, Rada, and the Lord knows why I should trouble myself so much about you. You've got a hold on me somehow, and I expect you'll keep it." And, so, walking now staidly by her side, he conducted her back to his father's house, which adjoined the stables. About nine o'clock that night Mostyn sat in the drawing-room of the Grange, studying a book on breeding, "Hodgson's Breeding Tables." He was quite alone in the house. After a time, however, his thoughts wandered, and, naturally, they turned to Rada. As he thought of the girl there came a tap upon the open window, and looking up, he saw her there, a small elf-like figure standing in the moonshine. He started up from his chair, dropping the book upon the floor, as she entered the room. There was a smile upon her lips, a smile that was triumphant but not altogether happy, and he thought that there were dark borders to her eyes, black rings which he had not noticed before. "I knew that you would be alone in the house," she said, "and that's why I did not trouble to go to the front door." "Rada, I'm delighted," he began. "So am I," she interrupted, "delighted that I am able to settle up the matter of Castor so quickly. Here is your money." She had been holding her left hand behind her; now she drew it forward and dropped upon the table a little crumpled packet of bank-notes. "A thousand pounds," she said defiantly. "You'd better count them and see if they are right."