d Marion could feel that Duncan was looking into her face, but she did
not dare to meet his glance. He leaned toward her and spoke in the soft
tones she remembered so well. "You are cruel," he said.

She looked up, startled. "Cruel, what do you mean?" she asked.

"You are cruel to forget so easily. You are cruel to treat me as you
have."

"I, cruel; I don't understand," she said, and she thought of his
careless manner and how she had waited for him to speak.

"Yes, you women are all alike. You play with us men for the moment, and
then we are cast aside like a toy which no longer pleases. I thought you
were different from the rest."

Marion looked up into his face with an expression of astonishment. She
met his grey eyes, and for a moment she felt again that subtle power she
had been dreaming of so long.

"Have you forgotten?" he said slowly.

Marion turned her head away. "Don't talk of that, Mr. Grahame," she
answered. "That is all ended."

"It can't be ended while----" He did not finish for he saw a man
approaching. "Here we are, Sanderson," he called carelessly. "I suppose
you are looking for your wife."

"Yes," answered Roswell, coming nearer. "Mr. Sedger has tea ready on the
upper veranda, and he wants his party. You look pale, Marion, is
anything the matter?"

"I felt very much upset by that accident. I came here to get away from
the people for a moment."

"A cup of tea will put you right," said Duncan.

CHAPTER XIV.

DANGER.

The races were over, and the rays of the setting sun streamed through
the western window of the little dining-room where Walter Sedger's party
was seated. The glass and plate glistened in the fading sunlight, and
cast many deep shadows on the white table cover, while the faces of the
people sitting there were flushed with the first glow of the approaching
twilight. The servants moved quietly from place to place, and the merry
conversation of Sedger's friends mingled with the soft strains of a
Viennese waltz coming through the open hallway door. The thousands who
had crowded the course that day had rumbled back over the dusty roads to
the city. The huge Grand Stand was silent and deserted, and only the few
parties dining at the club remained of the great crowd that had cheered
Belle of Newport in her Derby victory. The refreshing cool of the
evening seemed to inspire the tired people with new spirits, and the
addition to their number of Jack Elliot and his coaching pa