tip.

He soon returned, and handed them six sovereigns apiece.

"My man paid up like a Briton," he said cheerfully. "I have no
reliable information as to the next race, so what do you ladies say
if we lunch quietly before we attack the ring for the Derby?"

There was an awkward pause. The air of Epsom Downs is stimulating,
especially after one has found the winner of the first race.

"We have not brought anything to eat," admitted Cynthia ruefully. "We
ordered some sandwiches before leaving the hotel, and we mean to stop
for tea at some old-world hotel in Reigate which Mrs. Devar
recommends."

"Unfortunately I was not hungry at sandwich time," sighed Mrs. Devar.

"If it comes to that, neither was I, whereas I have a most unromantic
appetite now. But what can do, as the Babus say in India. I am rather
inclined to doubt the quality of anything we can buy here."

Medenham's face lit up.

"India!" he cried. "Have you been to India?"

"Yes, have you? My father and I passed last cold weather there."

Warned by a sudden expansion of Mrs. Devar's prominent eyes, he gave a
quick turn to a dangerous topic, since it was in Calcutta that the
gallant ex-captain of Horton's Horse had "borrowed" fifty pounds from
him. Naturally, the lady omitted the telltale prefix to her son's
rank, but it was unquestionably true that the British army had
dispensed with his services.

"I was only thinking that acquaintance with the East, Miss Vanrenen,
would prepare you for the mysterious workings of Kismet," said
Medenham lightly. "When I came across Simmonds this morning I was
bewailing the fact that my respected aunt had fallen ill and could not
accompany me to-day. May I offer you the luncheon which I provided for
her?"

He withdrew the wicker basket from its nook beneath the front seat;
before his astonished guests could utter a protest, it was opened, and
he was deftly unpacking the contents.

"But that is _your_ luncheon," protested Cynthia, finding it incumbent
on her to say something by way of polite refusal.

"And his aunt's, my dear."

In those few words Mrs. Devar conveyed skepticism as to the aunt and
ready acceptance of the proffered fare; but Medenham paid no heed; he
had discovered that the napkins, cutlery, even the plates, bore the
family crest. The silver, too, was of a quality that could not fail to
evoke comment.

"Well, here goes!" he growled under his breath. "If I come a purler it
will not be for the firs