‘It was thought so. A very nice-looking boy, with blue eyes and curly fair hair—full of mischief, and afraid of nothing in the world. Poor Val! How he would have enjoyed coming with us to-day!’
‘Isn’t it fortunate that there is an Australasian horse in the race?’ said Hermione. ‘I wonder if he has a chance of winning—I must back him in gloves, if nothing else. What is his name?’
‘Moifaa, a New Zealand name; he comes from there, and has won steeplechases in his own island. What did Eric and Reggie say about him?’
‘They went to see him in his stable, and liked him ever so much—a fine horse, nearly or quite thorough-bred, with immense power, and a fair [277] ]amount of speed. They were going to back him for a moderate amount.’
‘Then I vote we do likewise,’ said Hermione, ‘always supposing father approves. It will give us so much more interest in the race. Delightful, won’t it be, if we can pay our expenses, and have all the fun and excitement to the good?’
‘Do you agree, mother?’
‘We must see what your father says—I daresay he and Eric will look him well over. Then we may invest with confidence.’
‘Really,’ said Vanda, ‘one would think that all these charming “fixtures” had been arranged specially for our benefit. I never heard of so many, more or less mixed up with Australians. It’s quite flattering to our vanity, of which we are supposed to have our share!’
‘Not more than English people,’ said Hermione; ‘the difference is, that we talk more when we win anything, because it is a pleasant surprise, having been brought up to believe that the British article is in every department superior. The Englishman disdains to dwell upon the fact, because his unquestioned excellence in art, science, sport, and fashion must be (he supposes) admitted by the whole civilised world!’
‘That’s what makes him hated abroad, I suppose?’