Lady Tilborough, laughing. "Thank
you, my man. You've got your favourite, I've got mine, and the man to
ride her straight and square as an English gentleman should ride an
English horse."

"All right, Sir Hilton. All right, my lady. Sorry I tried to give
advice gratis for nothing; only mind this, both of you, if La Sylphide
breaks down or Sir Hilton here loses his nerve through being out of
training, don't you blame me."

"Don't be alarmed, Simpkins," said Lady Tilborough, in a tone which made
the trainer draw back a step or two. "Here, Hilton."

"Yes."

"A horrible thought. What about your weight?" she whispered.

"Went straight to the scales and tried," he replied, in the same lowered
tone. "Right to an ounce."

"Ha!" ejaculated Lady Tilborough, with a sigh of relief and a glance
back to see if the trainer was out of hearing. "Now then, off to your
room and get into your silk. Mind, you must keep cool and you must
win."

"I'm trying my best. But I can't help thinking. My wife!"

"Oh! Kiss your wife, man--when you get back. Never mind her now."

"But if by any chance she hears?"

"Let her hear when the race is run. She must hear afterwards, of
course. Wives and husbands are out of court now. Remember your four
thou'."

"I do," said Sir Hilton, with a groan.

"Ah! would you!" cried Lady Tilborough. "You've got to face the thing
anyhow, and listen, here's your position: It's meeting the poor, severe
darling with the race lost, or meeting her with it won. Which will you
do?"

"Of course," cried Sir Hilton, eagerly. "I see."

"You're yourself again. Now, one more word--that man has backed Jim
Crow heavily. You understand?"

"Of course."

"And Jim Crow's rather a dangerous horse; but if you keep cool, and in
your old form, the race is ours."

"Yes; I feel it now."

"Then you know. Keep her clear, and let her have her own old way."

"Then I'm off yonder. You'll meet me there. I've a hankering to be at
her side, for fear of the possibility of anyone getting at her even
now."

"No fear of that. Off with you!"

Lady Tilborough held out her hand, and Granton entered quickly.

"Silk ho!" he cried.

Sir Hilton nodded shortly and ran actively up the stairs.

"Bravo!" said the doctor. "Hilt looks his old self. Cool as a--you
know."

"Don't say another word to me, Granton, till the race is over," said the
lady, pleadingly.

"I understand," he said, and they went off str