“Me—I ride! Why, I am two stone heavier than he is.”
“I suppose he knew that,” said she, coldly, and as if the matter was one of complete indifference to her. “I am only delivering a message,” continued she, in the same careless tone; “he said, 'Ask Captain Trafford to ride for me and take up my book; 'I was to be particular about the phrase 'take up;' I conclude you will know what meaning to attach to it.”
“I suspect I do,” said he, with a low soft laugh.
“And I was to add something about hints he was to give you, if you 'd go round to his dressing-room at once; indeed, I believe you have little time to spare.”
“Yes, I'll go,—I 'll go now; only there 's one thing I 'd like to ask—that is—I'd be very glad to know—”
“What is it?” said she, after a pause, in which his confusion seemed to increase with every minute.
“I mean, I should like to know whether you wished me to ride this race or not?”
“Whether I wished it?” said she, in a tone of astonishment.
“Well, whether you cared about the matter one way or other?” replied he, in still deeper embarrassment.
“How could it concern me, my dear Captain Trafford?” said she, with an easy smile; “a race never interests me much, and I 'd just as soon see Blue and Orange come in as Yellow and Black; but you 'll be late if you intend to see my husband; I think you 'd better make haste.”