very form of intemperance and immorality. I am
not afraid to tell you so, for God has laid upon me a plain message, and
I intend to do my duty. These race-courses are not for horse-racing, but
for reservoirs of avarice and drunkenness and prostitution. Don't
think"--he was looking straight into the painted faces of the women in
pink and yellow, who were trying to smile and look amused--"don't think
I am going to abuse the unhappy girls who are forced by a corrupt
civilization to live by their looks. They are my friends, and half my own
life is spent among them. I have known some of them in whose hearts dwelt
heavenly purity, and when I think of what they have suffered from men I
feel ashamed that I am a man. But, my sisters, for you, too, I have an
urgent message. It is full summer with you now, as you sit here in your
gay clothes on this bright day; but the winter is coming for every one of
you, when there will be no more sunshine, no more luxury and pleasure and
flattery, and when the miry wallowers in troughs and stys, who are now
taking the best years of your lives from you----"

"Helloa there! Whoop! Tarara-ra-ra-rara!"

A four-in-hand coach was dashing headlong up the hill amid clouds of
dust, the rattling of wheels, the shouts of the driver and the blasts of
the horn, and the people who covered the roadway were surging forward to
make room for it.

"It's Gloria!" said everybody, looking up at the occupants of the coach
and recognising one of them.

The spell of the preacher was broken. He paused and turned his head and
saw Glory. She was sitting tall and bright and gay on the box-seat by the
side of Drake; the rays of the sun were on her and she was smiling up
into his face.

The preacher began again, then faltered, and then stopped. A bell at the
Grand Stand was ringing. "Numbers goin' up," said everybody, and before
any one could be conscious of what was happening, John Storm was only a
cipher in the throng, and the crowd was melting away.

IV.

The great carnival completely restored Glory's spirits. She laughed and
cried out constantly and lived from minute to minute like a child.
Everybody recognised her and nearly everybody saluted her. Drake beamed
with pride and delight. He took her about the course, answered her
questions, punctuated her jests, and explained everything, leaving Lord
Robert to entertain his guests. Who were "those dwellers in tents"? They
were the Guards' Club, and the servic