Frisky won comfortably, started at ten to one, and Hector landed a hundred pounds. He also backed the winner of the next race, the Welter Handicap, and doubled his hundred. This was encouraging; it was to be a day of success—at least it appeared so.
Denyer he did not see for some time. Shortly before the last race he noticed him walking across the paddock with a lady. It was Mrs. Elroy, and Hector's heart almost stopped beating. For a moment he trembled with nervous excitement, which by a great effort he suppressed.
They came up; Denyer introduced her. She held out her hand, Hector took it, they looked into each other's eyes. There was not a shadow of recognition on her part, but there was something else there—Lenise Elroy had by some strange intuition thrilled at the sight of this man, felt a wave of emotion flow through her body. She was sure she would like him, like him very much indeed, and she immediately resolved to better the acquaintance. Hector divined something of what passed in her mind and smiled. He could have wished for nothing better; it was what he most desired, but had not dared to hope for.
Denyer left them together for a moment.
"You are a friend of Mr. Denyer's?" she said in a soothing voice.
"I was introduced to him here," he said. "I have not known him more than an hour or so. He put me on a winner, Frisky, and I also backed the last winner. My luck is in to-day," he added, as he looked meaningly at her.
Lenise Elroy returned his glance; she understood men. She thought she had made a conquest and that he was worth it.
"Will you ride back to town with us in my motor?" said Denyer, as he joined them again.
"Yes, do, Mr. Rolfe; we shall be delighted if you will. And perhaps you will dine with us at the Savoy," she said.
Hector said he would be delighted. Fortune was indeed favoring him.