Gay declared that horses, like children, have an inborn tendency to dance to the sound of music—not horses trained to the Haute École either—and that in their grace and tapering limbs, they made her think of some exquisite exponents of the ballet, as compared with the unwieldy bodies and heavy legs of ordinary clumsy human beings.
It interested Gay to watch these men, the keenest judges of horse-flesh, and riding and driving in the world, who chatted quietly, nodded appreciatively now and then, criticised, admired, condemned, evincing no concern when a frightened horse scattered them to right and left. She was greatly amused at a big, striding bay horse named "Teetotaler" that, though built on galloping lines, proved himself inferior to "Whisky," who made short work of his opponent in the 15 stone class; then there was a Belgian horse named "Timber-topper" that thoroughly lived up to his name.
Tom Bulteel found much to admire in the horse and gig class, a purely American affair, that being rather a novelty in this country, was greatly approved, but laughed heartily when, in a four-in-hand class, the coachman had to have assistance to turn his leaders in the ring. He naturally took keen interest in the park teams, which, supported by the Four-in-hand and Coaching Clubs, by private individuals and professionals, ensured the judging being watched with the closest attention. Then there were Mr. Vanderbilt's famous team of greys, which he drove himself, though it was only by a shade that he wrested the prize from the well-known browns of the Old Brighton Coach—an English turn-out that gradually absorbed most of the audience's attention, and whose driver, though he lost the blue rosette, was greeted with loud and prolonged applause.
"Where is your motor-car now?" cried Gay triumphantly to Lossie. "Talk of a chauffeur indeed—as if his finest, most daring and sustained feat, could rival the sympathetic dexterity shown a hundred times here by English and American whips!"
"Just as no rivalry between mechanical contrivances can hold a candle to the struggle among the field of beautiful high-bred horses, sweeping over the turf towards the winning-post," said Chris, "for in the mechanical contrivance, the driver is the only sentient element, in horse-racing there is both horse and jockey to reckon with, and the animal enters into the spirit of the contest just as keenly as his rider."
Inconsistent Gay frowned, and turned her head away, devoting herself to Tom Bulteel, who did not want her. He was intently watching the class for a quick change of four-in-hands, marks being given for the speed and swiftness with which the harnessing and unharnessing was managed, as well as for the eight horses and the horsemanship, and some extraordinarily smart work was being done, which he fully appreciated.
Effie, watching the game, sighed, for Gay's spirits and temper varied with every succeeding hour, the "class" witnessed, being the barometer by which her emotions were set. When there was only driving, and Chris's attention entirely given to her, she sparkled, and was happy; when jumping was on, and he became absolutely engrossed in his favourite passion, leaning forward, his soul in his eyes, and his eyes where his body panted to be, Gay existed no more for him than that vast circle of spectators of which he formed a part, and her brightness was eclipsed. Then Carlton scored—he had not watched Gay and her attitude towards Chris during the progress of the Show for nothing, and each day saw his hopes rise higher, Lossie's fell.
To Effie, who was a shrewd observer, this was something more than a great Horse Show, it was the picturesque mise en scène for the playing out of the comedy (or tragedy) of four lives, and of which she, and unhappy Lossie clearly foresaw the end.... Chris and wilful Gay were throwing away their happiness with both hands, and much as she loved them both, she was powerless to prevent it.