"For nothing!" echoed Mr. St. Leger again. "It was for a good many thousand pounds. There's many a one was there to-day who wishes they had run for nothing!"
"But after all, that is for nothing," said Dolly. "It is no good to anybody."
"Except to those that win," said the old gentleman. "Except to those that win!" Probably he had won.
Dolly wanted to get out of the conversation. She made no answer. Another gentleman spoke up, and opined, were it not for the money won and lost, the whole thing would fail of its attraction. It would be no sport indeed, if the horses ran for nothing. "Do you have no races in—a—your country?" he asked Dolly.
Dolly believed so. She had never been present at them.
"Nothing like Epsom," said her father. "We shall have nothing to show like that for some time. But Dolly takes practical views. I saw her smiling out of the windows, as we drove along, coming here yesterday; and I asked her what she was thinking of? I expected to hear her say, the beauty of the plantations, or the richness of the country, or the elegance and variety of the equipages we passed. She answered me she was thinking what she should do with her life!"
There was a general gentle note of amusement audible through the room, but old Mr. St. Leger laughed out in a broad "ha, ha."
"What did you conclude, my dear?" said he. "What did you conclude? I am interested to know."
"I could not conclude then, sir," said Dolly, bearing the laugh very well, with a pretty little peach-blossom blush coming upon her cheeks.
"'Tisn't difficult to know," the old gentleman went on, not unkindly watching Dolly's face play. "There is one pretty certain lot for a pretty young woman. She will manage her household, take care of her husband, and bring up her children,—one of these days."