"Oh, don't feel like that, I implore you. But, tell me, what difference will this make to you? I have heard about the strange story of the colt and how Harry Fielden stepped in to prevent disgrace to our house. But that does not alter the fact that you owe Mr. Copley a large sum of money. I suppose it will have to be paid whether he is convicted or not."
"Undoubtedly," Sir George answered. "But my lawyer says it will be some time before I am called upon to pay the money. I had a long interview with him this morning. Everybody knows now that Raymond Copley is no millionaire and that he is an unscrupulous adventurer who passed himself off as a wealthy man in order to carry out his swindles. From a telegram I have just received a good many fresh details came out this morning when Copley was brought up at Bow Street. The magistrate has refused to allow bail, but it will be two or three months before Copley is convicted, and during the interval some of his creditors are sure to make him bankrupt. They will be anxious to rescue some of the plunder and there are probably several thousand pounds in the bank besides all the stuff at Seton Manor and other places. It will take time to investigate these things, and possibly the summer will be over before the Bankruptcy officials ask me to pay this money to Copley's estate. Long before that the Blenheim colt will have won the Derby."
May could not repress a smile.
"You are always sanguine," she said. "In fact, if you hadn't been so sanguine, you would not be in your present position. I suppose nobody knows of our trouble."
"Only Harry Fielden," Sir George said thankfully. "I suppose, we shall have to regard him as one of the family, though what he is going to live on and how he is going to keep you, goodness knows. I've got nothing."
A smile crossed May's face.
"We are all going to make fortunes out of the colt," she said. "If you are so sanguine, you must not grudge a little bit of a similar spirit to us. I know that Harry has backed the colt for all he is worth. It is very dreadful and wrong and extravagant, but Harry tells me that this will be the last time. How singular that the fortunes of two families should depend upon a horse! Only think, too, that, but for the merest accident, the Blenheim colt would not be in the Derby at all. That makes me think our good fortune is to continue. I don't think Fate would play us a low-down trick. It is impossible that the colt has been saved only to speed us to ruin at the last. But I don't like to think about it. I shall be in a fever of anxiety from now till May. But I'll try to be calm. I must realize that this is my last bet."
Sir George was content to let it go at that. He was glad to have his daughter back, glad to think that things were no worse. Fate, too, had been kind to him, for he had preserved his name and reputation. He had lost nothing; indeed, he stood to be in a better position than he had ever yet occupied. For the first time for months he was looking forward to his dinner with gusto.