The marchioness was a lady with a passion for bridge, and an intense
admiration for Adrien Leroy.
"You are quite sure your horse, that pretty creature with the long neck,
is going to win?" she inquired, as he stood by her chair.
Her sister, Lady Merivale, looked up mockingly.
"Of course he's going to win, Alicia. Did not Lady Constance Tremaine
say so? Surely she ought to know!"
Leroy did not appear to notice the jealous sarcasm of this speech.
"I hope he will win," he said gravely. "Nothing is certain in this
world, and race-horses are said to be as fickle as your sex, dear lady."
This was a mild thrust at Lady Merivale; but she only smiled sweetly in
response. "Still, I think you may safely bet on the 'King'; he's in fine
form." Then he turned to his cousin. "Here is your beau cavalier,
Constance," he said, almost jealously, as Jasper Vermont came leisurely
up the steps of the grand stand; then, with a swift glance at the girl
which was not lost upon Lady Merivale, he went down once more to his
father.
"The bell is about to ring now," he said. "Are you sure you can see?"
"Quite sure," replied Lord Barminster curtly. "How is the horse?"
"In splendid form, sir," Adrien answered cheerfully. "I should think it
is a safe thing. If you are quite all right, I'll get back to the others
now, before the crush begins."
His father nodded, and the young man made his way back to the stand.
Here he found the Castle guests already seated. Harsh cries from the
betting-ring still ascended at intervals, though the majority of the
vast crowd had settled down to watch the race. With a thrill of
pleasure, Adrien saw that Lady Constance had kept a seat vacant for him
beside herself; and with a light word to Lady Merivale as he passed, he
took his place, and unstrapping the heavy field-glasses, arranged them
to Lady Constance's liking.
"Can you see all right?" he asked.
"Beautifully," she replied, as she tried them. "What excitement they are
all in," she added, as she surveyed the seething crowd.
Adrien smiled, pleased because she was pleased; for himself, except that
he wished his horse to win in order that it should gain fresh laurels,
he had no interest in the affair. Certainly he never gave a thought to
the fearful amount of money involved.
Then, amid a murmur of excitement, the starting-gate went up, and the
horses were off. For a while "Miracour" led; "Bluebell" running close
beside him; the "King" striding along in cool, quiet canter that covered
the miles at greater speed than the little mare could hope to maintain.