Be it stated that he was eminently a racing, not a betting man; he was no gambler, though always ready to back his own opinion.
The grand stand was packed, and the ladies' dresses as brilliant as the June sky.
The two men, moving slowly on, at last caught the eyes of two ladies who were beckoning them, and accordingly went up and joined them.
"You are only just in time—they have cleared the course," said Mrs. Learmorth, a lady sparkling in diamonds but deficient in grammar.
"My dear Fred, where's Godfrey?" asked Mrs. Orton, a handsome, very dark young woman, with a high color and flashing eyes.
"Oh, he's somewhere about: Letherby's looking after him," was the nonchalant reply, as he lifted a pair of field glasses to his eye, and presently announced, in a tone of keen excitement; "They'll be out directly. Wait till they canter past the stand. Mrs. Learmorth, you've never seen Invincible, have you?"
"Never!" cried the lady, eagerly. "Mind you point him out to me."
"Here they come," said the colonel. "Look—that's Lord Chislehurst's Falcon—I've backed him for a place—lathy beast: but a good deal of pace. This one and this are both outsiders. There's the duke's daffodil livery, but that is only a second horse put on to make the running. Here comes the Castilian, Orton."
Mr. Orton was watching with an absorbed fascination.
"Ay, there's Carter," said he, studying the well-known jockey's face. "He means business, I tell you."