"No," she said, calmly. "He was all right at dinner."
"Why can he not behave like other people?" said the earl, sadly. "Can you fancy any other man leaving his father's guests and riding about the country?"
"Leycester never was like any other," she said, not without a touch of pride. "He is as he is, and nothing can alter him."
The earl was silent for a moment, his long white hands folded behind his back, his dark eyes fixed on the floor.
"Has he told you of his last escapade—his last mad freak?" he said, in a low voice.
"Yes," she answered, calmly. "He has never concealed anything from me."
"It is nearly twenty thousand pounds. Even Wyndward must feel such strains as this."
The countess raised her head.
"I know," she said; "he has told me everything. It was a point of honor. I did not quite understand; horse-racing is a pastime with which I have little sympathy, though we have always owned race-horses. It was a point of honor. Some one had been taking advantage of his name to act dishonestly, and he withdrew the horse. He could take no other course," he says.
The earl sighed.