y
straight hocks, and a thin bang-tail reaching down to them. The little
creature had none of those commonplace good looks so discouraging to
artists.

He had forgotten its rider, till she looked up from the dogs, and said:
"Do you like him? It IS nice of you to be going to do us."

When she had ridden away, looking back until she turned the corner, he
tried to lure the two dogs once more to their pose. But they would sit
no more, going continually to the door, listening and sniffing; and
everything felt disturbed and out of gear.

That same afternoon at Sylvia's suggestion he went with her to call on
the Dromores.

While they were being ushered in he heard a man's voice rather
high-pitched speaking in some language not his own; then the girl:

"No, no, Oliver. 'Dans l'amour il y a toujours un qui aime, et l'autre
qui se laisse aimer.'"

She was sitting in her father's chair, and on the window-sill they saw
a young man lolling, who rose and stood stock-still, with an almost
insolent expression on his broad, good-looking face. Lennan scrutinized
him with interest--about twenty-four he might be, rather dandified,
clean-shaved, with crisp dark hair and wide-set hazel eyes, and, as in
his photograph, a curious look of daring. His voice, when he vouchsafed
a greeting, was rather high and not unpleasant, with a touch of lazy
drawl.

They stayed but a few minutes, and going down those dimly lighted stairs
again, Sylvia remarked:

"How prettily she said good-bye--as if she were putting up her face to
be kissed! I think she's lovely. So does that young man. They go well
together."

Rather abruptly Lennan answered:

"Ah! I suppose they do."

VI

She came to them often after that, sometimes alone, twice with Johnny
Dromore, sometimes with young Oliver, who, under Sylvia's spell, soon
lost his stand-off air. And the statuette was begun. Then came Spring
in earnest, and that real business of life--the racing of horses 'on
the flat,' when Johnny Dromore's genius was no longer hampered by the
illegitimate risks of 'jumpin'.' He came to dine with them the day
before the first Newmarket meeting. He had a soft spot for Sylvia,
always saying to Lennan as he went away: "Charmin' woman--your
wife!" She, too, had a soft spot for him, having fathomed the utter
helplessness of this worldling's wisdom, and thinking him pathetic.

After he was gone that evening, she said:

"Ought we to have Nell to stay with us while you'