CHAPTER VII
THE ESCAPADE
Acting on Carlton's advice, Gay did not enter her horses for Blackpool, Glasgow, Liverpool, Belfast, or Leeds; the Irish Meetings were of course out of the question with so small a stable, so that she was practically limited to three Meetings within easy reach of town.
"It was," as he privately expressed it to himself, "merely a flirtation with Trotting, not playing the game itself," and he hoped that like other ill-advised flirtations, it would die a natural death. Though he honestly believed that Trotting had a future in England if properly managed, he had most unwillingly come to the conclusion that Chris was right, and though it furnished a healthy amusement for a great number of cheery, happy people, under existing conditions it was decidedly neither his, nor any young girl's milieu.
No doubts whatever troubled Gay, who was thoroughly enjoying herself, and two days before the meeting at Waterloo Park, at which Silver Streak was to carry her colours for the first time in public, she succeeded in effecting what she had set her heart on, viz., the driving by herself at exercise of one of her horses.
With her usual incorrigible frankness she unfolded her plan to the Professor at luncheon, much to his horror and disgust.
"Can you not be content to be a spectator," he asked, "instead of participating actively in a sport (he pronounced the word with venom) which Lossie tells me claims as its closest adherents publicans and tradesmen? A nice thing it would be to find your butcher or fishmonger careering round the course beside you, encouraging you with shouts and cries such as are practised on all race-courses, or so I am informed, for I have never visited one. I deeply deplore this unhappy infatuation, but, as usual, my wishes are ignored," he concluded huffily.
"Don't be a prig, Heron," said Gay carelessly. "You can't help being a muff, I suppose, or Lossie a sneak, but for father's sake—and a better sportsman never breathed, as you know well enough—do try to take a little interest in sport, even if you refuse to participate, as you elegantly express it. To hear you talk, one would think you were employed by the Anti-Everything-Healthy-League, and that you had a special mission to fulfil in saving everybody's soul—at the expense of his body, of course! It's enough to make the poor old dad turn in his grave to hear you go on as you do. If he were alive, he'd be the very first to back me up."
She glanced at the clock, and jumped up.
"Time and trains wait for no man," she said. "Run off to your laboratory, old chap, but before you go, give me a kiss—and your blessing."
She stood up on tip-toe to meet the Professor's chaste salute, imprinted somewhere in the neighbourhood of her ear.