"I don't know. I'll see when I get there." "I'll try and find something pretty safe for you, and I'll have my money on it too." "Isn't it exciting!" whispered Tony. "What should I do if I met Mrs. Arkwright or any of the mistresses!" Mrs. Arkwright and the mistresses were not the people Furlonger dreaded to meet. He and Tony swung gaily along the cinder-track leading to the course. It was deserted, except for a little knot at the starting gate. The girl shrank rather close to him as they came into the crowd. The shouting made her nervous and flustered--that people should make such a noise over a shady thing like betting seemed to her extraordinary. She touched Nigel's elbow, and showed him her purse, now open, and containing half-a-crown. "Which is the best horse?" "I wish I knew." "May I look at the card?" He gave it to her. She seemed puzzled. "How can I tell which horse to bet on?" A man beside them laughed, and Nigel flushed indignantly. "You can't tell much by the card; I'll go over to the ring in a moment, and find out what the odds are. But as you don't want to put on more than half-a-crown, I'd keep it till the big race, if I were you." "Which is the big race?" "The Lingfield Cup. It's the last--but we'll enjoy the others, even though we've got nothing on 'em." They enjoyed them thoroughly. Hanging over the rail, their shouts were just as noisy and as desperate as if they had all their possessions at stake. Tony was thrilled to the depths--the clamour and excitement in the betting ring, the odd, disreputable people all round her, surreptitiously exchanging shillings and horses' names--the clanging bell, the shout of "They're off!" the flash of opera-glasses, the mad rush by, the cheers for the winner ... all plunged her into an orgy of excitement. She felt subtly wicked and daring, and also, when Nigel began to explain the technicalities of racing, infinitely worldly-wise. What would the girls at school say when they found out she knew the meaning of "Ten to one, bar one," or "Money on both ways"? She wrote such phrases down in her "nature note-book," which she carried about with her to record botanical discoveries, birds seen, sunsets, and equally blameless doings. At last the time came for the Lingfield Cup. Tony's hands began to quiver. Now was the moment when she should actually become a part of that new world swinging round her. She would have her stake in the game--and a big stake too, for half-a-crown meant more than a fortnight's pocket-money. She looked nervously at Mr. Smith. "We'll see 'em go past before we put our money on," said he, with a calmness she thought unnatural. "You can tell a lot by the way a horse canters up." They leaned over the rail, and Tony gave a little cry at the first sight of colours coming from the paddock. "Here they are--oh, what a beautiful horse!" "A bit short in the leg," said Nigel, "we won't put our money on him." "What about that bay--the one coming now?"