CHAPTER XVI.
A RACE TO BE REMEMBERED.
It was not a social meal, anything but that, and they were glad when it was over. Warren Courtly, irritable and ill at ease, spoke once or twice to his wife in such a manner that Ulick glared at him savagely; he noticed it, and enjoyed it.
Unfortunately, Warren was going from bad to worse. He realised the truth of the saying that evil communications corrupt good manners. At his club he played bridge and lost large sums. On the racecourse he tried to repair these losses, with the inevitable result. His fortune, at one time ample, gradually dwindled away, and he knew that if he did not pull up Anselm Manor would be in the market in a couple of years or so.
Irene had no idea things were as bad as this; her mind was occupied with other matters. The knowledge she possessed of her husband's conduct towards Janet Todd and Ulick she found burdensome. She was positively certain Ulick would not tell the Squire, and she felt he ought to know, but she had promised Janet to tell no one but her husband. When she left them to retire for the night, Warren commenced to talk about racing. He had a substantial bet about Sandstone for the Derby at very fair odds, and was sanguine of winning. He discussed the race with Ulick, who was of the same opinion that Sandstone would win.
"If he does," Ulick remarked, "I should put part of the winnings on my horse for the Coronation Cup."
"Your horse!" exclaimed Warren. "I had no idea you owned one."
"More than one—several," replied Ulick; "but the Saint is the best."
"You own the Saint!" said Warren, more and more surprised. "I have heard it said he is the best three-year-old we have."
"He is not far short of it," he replied. "At least, that is the opinion of Fred May, and he is a very good judge."