“He did, splendidly! by six lengths, hands down,” replied Captain Vaughan enthusiastically. “You ought to have been there to see for yourself, Lady Fairfax. There has been capital racing.”
“What has brought you home so early?” she asked, not noticing his suggestion.
“Oh, we had had enough of it; the best races had been run, and we thought we would get away before the crowd.”
“Alice,” said her husband, suddenly tossing away his cigar, “I thought I had forbidden you to ride Cardigan?”
“Did you!” she replied airily; “just in the same way that I forbid you to ride races,” and she laughed as she leant over and patted Cardigan’s neck. “‘Live and let live’ is our motto, is it not, Captain Vaughan?”
“You won’t live long, at any rate, if you persist in riding that brute,” returned her husband angrily.
“He calls you a brute, Mr. C.; do you hear that? You and I understand each other perfectly,” she said, stooping forward again and patting his hard neck, thereby more fully displaying her perfect figure and her perfectly-cut habit.
“You have torn your glove, Lady Fairfax. Why, the whole palm is gone!” exclaimed Captain Vaughan.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, looking at it hurriedly, but not before a deep red weal across her delicate white palm was visible to both gentlemen.
“He pulls a good bit, does he not?” asked Captain Vaughan dubiously.