“But, dearest Deb, whom else should I be talking about asked Miss Laxton, puzzled.
Miss Grantham blushed. “I was thinking of something different,” she excused herself.
Light footsteps were heard running up the stairs; the next instant Lord Mablethorpe stood on the threshold, flushed, an a little dishevelled, and still dressed in a drab driving-coat, and topboots, both generously splashed with mud. “We won!” I announced, his eyes sparkling.
Phoebe clapped her hands. “Oh, I knew you would. I am so glad! And you are safe!”
He laughed. “Safe? Of course I am! There never was such race! It was beyond anything great! I do not know when enjoyed anything so much! Oh, Deb, do you mind me in my dirt? I thought you would not: I knew you would want hear all about it! May I come in?”
“Of course you may come in,” she said, picking up Phoebe work, and folding it neatly. “Have you dined, or would you like some supper?”
“Oh, no, thank you! We dined early in Hatfield, and I had supper with Max, at his house, just now. It was touch and go once or twice—only fancy our falling in behind an Accommodation coach on the narrow part of the road this side of Potter’s Bar! I thought all was over with us, for you must know that Filey led for the first part of the way, and was ahead of the coach. But there was never anyone like Max! You know when the road divides, at the Hadley Highstone, the Holyhead road going off to the left? Oh, I dare say you might not! But I can tell you it is as tricky a place as you may wish for, and a number of coaches and wagons on the road! Well, before I knew what he would be about, Max had dropped his hands, and let the greys shoot! It was our only chance, but there was a gig coming in from the Holyhead road, and I give you my word we cleared the Accommodation coach, with no more than a couple of inches to spare between it and the gig! I own, I shut my eyes, and said my prayers!”
“You might have been killed!” breathed Phoebe.
“So I might, with any other man holding the reins, but Max knows what his greys will do to a nicety.”
“I collect that Sir James’s pair was inferior?” said Deborah, despising herself for betraying any interest in the race.