"That is so like you lords of the creation," replied Sylla, with a wicked little laugh; "you never will allow that we know anything about sporting affairs; and yet I have heard my father say that the best judge of racing he ever knew was a woman, and I am sure some of us take the best of you to keep with us in the hunting-field. I have no doubt that Captain Bloxam thinks, as you do, that there is nobody that can beat him at Todborough."
"I most undoubtedly don't know it if there is," interposed Jim.
"And yet, Mr. Montague," continued Sylla, "if you had not run such a severe race to-day, I would challenge you to beat my champion over the same course."
"Oh, pray don't let that be any consideration," replied Montague, now somewhat nettled. He had felt no little elated at defeating Bloxam, and did not relish any disparagement of his victory. "Running a quarter-mile race," he continued, "does not place one hors de combat for the afternoon."
"Ah, well," cried Sylla gaily, "I told you Todborough was stubborn to believe itself beaten. If you dare, I'll wager my bracelet"—and she touched a very handsome bangle on her wrist—"against the cup you have just won that my champion beats you this afternoon."
"It shall be a match if you wish it. I can merely say I have beaten the only man I considered dangerous, and am afraid of none other. Don't blame me if I rob you of your bracelet; but remember, Miss Chipchase, this match was none of my seeking. However, your champion is on the ground, I presume; perhaps, now, you don't mind naming him."
"Not at all," she replied. "Will somebody please tell Lionel Beauchamp
I want him?"
"Lionel Beauchamp!" ejaculated Jim, and then he shook his head; for he regarded Sylla's proceedings now as mere temper.
To the bystanders, of course, the name of Lionel Beauchamp told nothing. He was a stranger to all except the Todborough party. His name had never been heard of in connection with athletic sports in any way. Lionel Beauchamp, in fact, was a young man who, what between taking a degree at Oxford and foreign travel, had scarcely is yet been either seen or heard of in the London world. He was known only in his own country as one of those quiet reserved dispositions little given to vaunt their accomplishments. Both Braybrooke and Jim Bloxam, having been appealed to by Captain Conyers, said they could form no idea whatever of his capabilities. They had never heard him say a word about running; and if he ever had done anything in that way, it was odd that he had never mentioned it in the smoking-room last night, when, in consequence of Jim's entry for the "All Army Cup," discussion had run high concerning such things. Lady Mary, on her part, was lost in conjecture—not so much as to whether Mr. Beauchamp could run, but as to where Sylla Chipchase could have attained such intimate knowledge of his accomplishments; while Mr. Cottrell alone showed faith in this unknown champion, observing cynically to Mrs. Sartoris, that when women went the length of wagering their bracelets, he thought it most advisable to be upon their side.
"They really must know they have an immense deal the best of it when they do that, depend upon it." Further speculation on the match was here interrupted by the appearance of Lionel Beauchamp, whom Mr. Sartoris had duly fetched from the other side of the marquee, where he had discovered him—what Lady Mary would have called—profitably employing himself by the side of Miss Bloxam.