"He who bends to himself a joy,
Does the wingéd life destroy,
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sunrise."
"For it's that Hannen boy she loves, and he her. I've watched her face—still, as he won't promise not to steeplechase, and she won't marry him if he doesn't, I don't see what's going to happen."
"You're quite right," she said, "Mr. Mackrell is off to-day, and will not have time to call here before he starts. I told my brother this morning that my horses will keep the engagements for which they are entered, but after that—" She hesitated, and looked at him anxiously.
"After that, Miss Gay," he said gravely, "don't enter them for any more. It's not a woman's game—at least, for one so womanly as you are—and you'll never do any good at it over here."
"Aren't those snapshots and sketches of me horrible?" said Gay in a whisper. "I'm looking forward with terror to the illustrated weeklies."
"It was a plucky idea, pluckily carried out," he said, "though Mackrell didn't mince his words to me just now—told me I ought to have prevented you and done the driving myself. But I don't think"—he smiled whimsically—"anything short of force majeure would have stopped you."
"Not even the devil," cried Gay, with sparkling eyes. "I sin with my eyes wide open, and I'd do it again this very minute."
"Why not?" he said equably. "As I said before, you must come over and drive for me in Vienna. I have won so many prizes there," he added quaintly, "that they don't like me to compete any more. Let me know the dates of any Meetings you have to attend, and no matter how far away I may be, I'll come back to escort you."
"Thank you," she cried, impulsively holding out both hands, and as he took them, the door opened, and Effie Bulteel came in.
When he had gone, and he went immediately, Effie flung her arms round Gay, and gave her a good hug.