"I'm just going to have a look at the horses; will you come?" he said.
"Only too pleased," said Vincent, and Harry acquiesced eagerly.
"Think we'll drive; horses are more enjoyable than motors—that's if you haven't to go any distance."
A pair of beautiful bays were brought round, the shooting wagon was spic and span, almost new, the groom smart and dapper, everything in perfect style.
Alan handled the reins and they drove along the well-kept road in the direction of Trent Stud.
Their way skirted past "The Forest" and as they passed the gates Evelyn Berkeley came out in her motor. Alan pulled up, she stopped the car, and greetings were exchanged.
"We're going to see the horses. Will you come?" asked Alan.
She thanked him, said she had an appointment in Nottingham, and from there had to go to Newark.
"You'll be in town for the Derby, I suppose?" said Alan.
"Yes. Are you running anything at the meeting?"