"How interesting!" she said. "Did you win a lot of money?"
Min laughed.
"Not a lot to you, Miss Gay," she said, "but enough to buy me a new hat, and a bit over. It's only a heat, you understand, miss," she went on to explain, "and worth five pounds to the winner. But the final is forty pounds, and I think we shall just about win to-day, shan't we, Bob?"
"I hope so, my dear," he replied, "but the pacer that took the first heat is a bit useful, and I know they're backing him outright. A hobbled pacer has a great advantage over a trotter, especially on this uneven track."
"I must really be off now," announced Gay, turning to embrace Min once more. "I'll certainly come and see you, and your husband must tell me some more about trotting. I have a great mind to buy some horses myself, and run them—though I suppose they wouldn't let me drive, would they?" disappointedly.
"Lor, Miss Gay, what a sportsman you are!" exclaimed Mrs. Toplady. "Good-bye, and be sure to let me know when I can have my little bit on yours."
"My horses will invariably be 'out,'" Gay answered, with a mischievous attempt at dignity. "As Mr. Hannen would say, they will always be 'at it.' Good-bye!"
Gay made her way to where Chris was leaning over the rails, and with sparkling eyes confided to him that she was greatly enjoying herself. When she added that she thought of going in for the game herself, Chris gave a long, reflective whistle.
"I expected it," was all he said. Perhaps his thoughts flashed to Carlton Mackrell, and of how much more Gay would be thrown into his society for the future, and he remained silent till they regained the members' enclosure.
"What will your brother say?" he asked.