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Chris heard all he said, and stood there bending forward, his lips apart, and eyes starting, as if turned to stone, living a very life in those seconds, as, amid a roar like the rushing of the tempest itself, the contemned mare came on.
"By George, sir, if the course had been a hundred yards more, she'd have won," roared the man on Chris's left. "Safflower's done. It's Lady Ronald; by--, no. Hurrah! Simoom! Simoom!" and in the midst of the frantic excitement, the mare upon which Chris's hopes were fixed pa.s.sed Safflower. There was a quick touch of the whip and she was alongside of Lady Ronald, and then Simoom's nose showed in front, and in the next few bounds she was half-a-length ahead, and swept past the post--winner.
The man on Chris's left suddenly seized his arm.
"Hurrah for the dark horse," he cried. "Just for the fun of the thing, I put a sov on her, and I've won two hundred pounds. I beg your pardon, sir, I see you're hit. Forgive my excitement. Don't be down-hearted; come and have a gla.s.s of champagne."
"Thank you," said Chris quietly; but he did not move, for the place seemed to be spinning round him, and he held tightly by the rails till a hand was laid upon his arm.
"Can I help you? You look ill."
"Help me? No; I'm all right now," said Chris, making an effort. "It was so sudden."
"Have you lost heavily?"
"Lost?" said Chris, looking at him wildly. "No; I've won."
He felt his hand being shaken warmly, and then he sank back into a wild, confused dream, in the midst of which he knew that he was being borne back by one of the express trains, with the roar of the race in his ears, and the sight of the horses sweeping by before his eyes.
As he neared town he began to grow more calm, and he found himself repeating the words,--
"Forty thousand pounds! I've won; but shall I win her now?"
And then, like a dark cloud, came the recollection of how he had obtained the information upon which his success was based.
"I can never name it to a soul," he muttered. "I must have been mad."
Volume One, Chapter XVI.
GARTRAM TAKES HIS DOSE.
"It's all right, I tell you, my dear boy. You don't understand women yet. A girl who says _snap_ the moment you say _snip_, isn't worth having. A good, true woman takes some wooing and winning; and no wonder, for it is a tremendous surrender for her to make."
"Yes, sir, you are quite right, but--"
"Yes; never mind the buts, Glyddyr. I could put my foot down, and say: 'Claude, my dear, there's your husband,' but it would mean a scene, and a lot of excitement, and I should be ill--perhaps have one of my confounded fits."
"But without going so far as that, sir, couldn't you--just a little, you know--parental authority--you understand. I am kept back so terribly as yet."
"No, my lad, I should not be serving your cause," said Gartram firmly.
"You see, she had always been so intimate with that fellow Lisle. Boy and girl together. It will take a little time to wean her from the fancy, and if I pull out the authoritative stop I shall be making him into a hero and her into a persecuted heroine. I may as well tell you that she is a bit firm, like I am, and any angry discussion on my part would perhaps make her stubborn."
"Then, perhaps, you had better not speak, sir."
"Decidedly not. There, you have the run of my place. Set to and win her like a man. Get along with you, you dog. Smart, handsome fellow like you don't want any help. It's only a matter of time. Don't seem to push your suit too hard. Treat it all as a something settled; and all you have to do is to get her used to you and her position as your betrothed. Bah! it will all come right, so don't let's risk opposition.
You will win."
"You are right, sir," said Glyddyr. "I'll be patient."
"Of course you will. That's right. I say, though, that little upset?"
"Little upset, sir?" said Glyddyr starting.
"I mean about your friend, the visitor from town, whose wife came after him."
"Oh!" exclaimed Glyddyr. "I didn't know what you meant."
"Rather an exciting affair, that. Strikes me that if it had had a tragic termination, your friend would not have broken his heart. I say, here you are in a hurry to get married, and you never know how the lady may turn out."
"Ah, that was an exception, sir," said Glyddyr hurriedly.
"Yes; but depend upon it, my dear boy, that was a hasty marriage. The gentleman said _snip_, and she said _snap_. Wasn't it so?"
"Yes; I think you are right," said Glyddyr.
"What a temper that woman must have. They tell me she deliberately stepped off the pier to follow him, or drown herself in a fit of pa.s.sion."
"Well, I'll take your advice, sir," said Glyddyr, hurriedly changing the conversation. "Of course, I can't help feeling impatient."
"No, of course, no," said Gartram. "Come in," he added, as there was a timid knock at the door.
"I beg pardon, sir, but Doctor Asher said I was to be particular as to time."
Sarah Woodham entered the room with a small tray, bearing gla.s.s and bottle.
There was a peculiar, shrinking, furtive look about the woman, that would have impressed a stranger unfavourably; but Glyddyr was too intent upon his own business, and Gartram already disliked his old servant, and did not shrink about showing it.
"Oh!" he said roughly. "Well, pour it out. Won't take a gla.s.s, I suppose, Glyddyr?"
"Oh, no, thanks. Not my favourite bin."
"Thank your stars. Nice thing to be under the doctor's hands. Hard, isn't it? Regular piece of tyranny."
"Oh, you'll soon get over that, Mr Gartram. Temporary trouble."
"Ah, I don't know, my lad. Here, that's more than usual, isn't it, Sarah?"
"No, sir. Exactly the quant.i.ty."
"Humph! Bah! Horrible!"
He had gulped the medicine down, and thrust the gla.s.s back on the tray.
"There, take it away," he said.
The woman looked at him furtively, and slowly left the room.
"How I do hate to see a nurse in black," exclaimed Gartram impatiently.
"When a man's ill, the woman who attends upon him ought to look bright and cheerful. That woman always gives me a chill."