"Come on, Mr. Scott," called Helen, "we'll go and have a ride."
Bobby pretended not to hear. Helen's assumption that he must vacate when Radwine appeared nettled him. He liked Helen in everything save that she would not take him seriously. He sat still, determined to hold his position against all comers.
"I've won in a walk," said Radwine to the young woman. "It's ten minutes yet to five o'clock—good afternoon, Mr. Scott—oh, I am all sorts of a winner."
Caroline's answer to Radwine was just as meaningless to Bobby, and in half a minute without the slightest discourtesy on the part of the others, he felt that he was a rank outsider.
"Are you coming, Mr. Scott?" Helen called to him again—and Bobby went.
"If you will excuse me?"—he asked Caroline's permission.
"Certainly, if you must go. Take good care of Helen. She is so young and venturesome."
This last speech in a measure placated Bobby's offended notions of dignity, and he and Helen went off toward the stables, where Hayward brought the horses out and put the saddles on while Bobby looked them over.
"That is a very handsome mount," he said to Helen, indicating Prince William. "He's a dead match for the horse of Lieutenant Lavine, of the Squadron."
"Beg pardon, sir," Hayward interrupted to ask, "what squadron?"