"I'm so nervous," she said, "that I feel I should communicate my nerves to her. But don't you bother about me. I'll wait for you in the inclosure."
"Where's Houston?" said Tony, irritably. "I thought he was going to meet us."
At that moment a messenger-boy came up. "Are you the Earl of Clarehaven?" he asked, perkily, and handed Tony a note, which the latter read out:
"DEAR CLAREHAVEN,—To what will I'm sure be my lifelong regret, important business prevents me from being at Epsom to see your triumph. Believe me, my dear fellow, that there is no one who hopes more cordially than I do for your success to-day. My kindest regards to your wife and tell her from me that I'm looking forward to our Derby dinner at the Carlton to-night.
Yours ever sincerely,
LIONEL HOUSTON."
"Funny chap! But I believe he's sincere," Tony muttered, "though it would be all to his interest if I lost."
But how much to his interest, Dorothy thought, how little did Tony know.
She waited for him in the company of the twittering women until he returned from the paddock.
"They're going down now," he told her.
"Everything all right?" she asked.