as he had felt at other times, he
had come away somewhat puzzled, and said to himself:

"She is captivated by his manner, as any girl might be, but I doubt
whether she loves him."

This impression, however, had always died out in a short time, and
he had somehow come to accept the general opinion unquestioningly,
that she would accept Carthew when he proposed. He had been
prepared to face the alternative of either suffering her to marry a
scoundrel, or of taking a step more repugnant to him, which would
probably end by an entire breach of his friendship with the
Greendales, that of telling them this story. He was therefore
delighted to find that the difficulty had been solved by Bertha
herself without his intervention, and felt absolutely grateful for
the accident which had cost him the Queen's Cup, but had at the
same time opened Bertha's eyes to the man's true character. Soon
after two o'clock he went ashore in the gig, and at the half hour
Lady Greendale and Bertha came down.

"The Osprey looks like a bird shorn of its wings," he said, as he
handed them into the boat; "and though the men have made everything
as tidy as they could, the two missing spars quite spoil her
appearance."

"That does not matter in the least, Frank," Lady Greendale said.
"We know how she looks when she is at her best. We shall enjoy a
quiet sail in her just as much as if she were in apple-pie order."

"You look fagged, Lady Greendale, though you are pretty well
accustomed to gaiety in town."

Lady Greendale did indeed look worn and worried. For the last two
or three days, Bertha's manner had puzzled her and caused her some
vague anxiety. That morning the girl had come in from the garden
and told her that she had just refused Mr. Carthew, and, although
she had never been pleased at the idea of Bertha's marrying him,
the refusal had come as a shock.

Personally she liked him. She believed him to be very well off, but
she had expected Bertha to do much better, and she by no means
approved of his fondness for the turf. She had been deeply
disappointed at the girl's refusal of Lord Chilson, on whom she had
quite set her mind. The second offer had also been a good one.
Still, she had reconciled herself to the thought of Bertha's
marrying Carthew. His connection with the turf had certainly
brought him into contact with a great many good men, he was to be
met everywhere, and she could hardly wonder that Bertha should have
been taken with