"Why have they sent me this, I wonder?" he said. He had not long to wait for an answer to his question, for upon smoothing out the paper, his attention was instantly attracted to the front page.
The next moment, with a startled exclamation, he hurled the paper from him, pushed back his chair, and walked to the window, rather to Gay's astonishment, though he always became "light-headed," as she called it, when anything but the obviously expected happened.
She snatched the paper up, and the next minute broke into a ripple of laughter. What she saw was a full-page illustration of the Trotting at Waterloo Park, Silver Streak winning, and inset at one corner a remarkably life-like snapshot of herself, in close conversation with "Brusher" Tugwood.
Below was some letterpress giving her name, and describing her as a new recruit to the sport, with one or two personal compliments with which she could easily have dispensed. The snapshot was deeply blue-pencilled round, while in the margin appeared a big note of interrogation, evidently ironic.
"Isn't it good! How flattering!" she said provokingly, though her thoughts flew to Chris, and how annoyed he would be.
Her brother did not reply. His pride—or what did duty for it—was mortally hurt. To think that his sister—the sister of Frank Lawless, F.R.C.S., F.R.S., etc.—should be exploited in a public print like any opera-bouffe girl—it was too much!
"They'll call you 'the Trotting Girl!'" he squealed.
"Most women waddle," said Gay flippantly, "and if my action is one-half as good as some Pacers I have seen, I am quite satisfied. But are you sure it was addressed to you, Frank?" and Gay looked at the wrapper to try to identify the handwriting, but found no clue there.
"Some justly indignant friend of yours—or mine—has seen this rag"—he spoke bitterly, and without turning to face her—"and sent it on with a commentary that speaks volumes for their opinion of your taste. I hope you are pleased with your—notoriety."
"I am," Gay replied emphatically—"delighted, and I hope it will give a leg-up to a real good sport, though I don't flatter myself that my connection with it will boom it much. What is there to be annoyed about?" she went on. "Surely there's nothing so very disgraceful in being snapshotted? I assure you I didn't pose for the photo."