“Yes. Haven’t you heard of the pranks of Sir George Braithwaite, one of the typical hare-brained scamps of a generation ago? This lad is his son; his eldest brother, the present Sir George, had to sell the estate a few months ago, and it was then young Harold came to me, reminded me I was his godfather, and said, if I didn’t give him some work to do, he would hang himself on the gate-post as he went out. So I asked him what he could do, and he said he could ride. I told him I had no doubt of that; but he was a long way too heavy for a jockey. ‘Well, make me coachman, groom—anything,’ said he; ‘and, when once you get me into a stable, you’ll soon see I know more about my work than anybody there. You needn’t say who I am, and they’ll never find out I’m a gentleman,’ he ended, rather bitterly. Well, I couldn’t do that of course; but I got the lad to stay with me, for I was rather interested by his obstinacy, and thought I would find out what he could do. I soon found he could sit anything, break in anything, and could give points to most horsy men on any matter of training or going. So I made up my mind to give him a trial, and I set him up at Kirby Park and put some of my racers under his care. And of course two or three more have followed my example; and now the lad has his hands full, and has got a fair chance.”
“It is a great responsibility for such a young man. He ought to be very grateful to you——”
“Well, I hope I may have reason to be grateful to him. My only fear was as to whether he would stick to it. He was very wild a year or two ago, I’ve heard; but he seems steady enough now, as far as I can find out. I think I’ve got the right man in the right place, and that he feels in his element, and will settle down all right. We shall see.”
With breathless interest Annie had listened to all this. This, then, was the occupation which her husband had found, and of which, according to Stephen, he was ashamed for her to hear! He had become a trainer. But Annie felt intoxicated with pride at the thought that her husband had shown a special capacity which proved him to be much more than the lazy, incompetent idler she used to consider him, that he had shown talent and had found a field for it, that, if he had taken her money without acknowledgment, he had at least not lived upon it in idle dependence. But this discovery only made the thought of his infidelity more bitter; in the very moment when she found that he possessed all the qualities which might have earned her respect as well as her devotion, she was hastening to a meeting which would fill him with disappointment and anger, and bring down upon herself his execration instead of his welcome.
She felt afraid of him. Already she was hesitating whether she should go back without seeing him, asking herself whether she could contrive to miss him at the station, when the slackening of the train’s speed and the exclamation of one of the gentlemen, “Here we are!” told her that the end of her journey was reached.
“Hallo, there’s Harry himself!” said the elder gentleman, looking out of the window. “Why, how many more of us does he expect? He has brought the dog-cart as well as the phaeton. Nice turn-out, that!” he added admiringly. “Here he is! Well, how are you, Harry?” he called out, as he turned the handle of the door and stepped down on to the platform.
Annie sprung to her feet at the other end of the carriage and looked out eagerly. There stood Harry, in a light overcoat, his face rather flushed and his blue eyes sparkling, looking, she thought, handsomer than she had ever seen him. He shook hands with the two gentlemen, and then he caught sight of her. She was watching him intently; but he was better schooled than in the old days, and no one could have detected disappointment in the flash which passed over his face on seeing her. She came to the carriage door, and, as he helped her out, he said, in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he had expected her:
“So you all came down in the same carriage, Lord Lytham?”—turning to the elder gentleman. “Allow me to introduce you to my wife.”
She was then introduced to the younger man, Captain King, who begged to be allowed to drive her in the dog-cart, and the other two drove in the mail-phaeton, in which Harry himself had come to the station.
Kirby Park was only three quarters of a mile off. The house was a large, heavy-looking building, which would have been ugly but for the trees about it. The park in which it stood was an extremely beautiful one, and, as the dog-cart followed the other carriage up the winding road through it, Annie’s thoughts were for a few moments diverted by the loveliness of the scene around her from the doubts and fears which were agitating her.