like that? What were you doing with your beastly handkerchief?
'Twas no race, Clo!"

But Clodagh looked up.

"Oh yes, it was," she said. "It was all my own fault; I hadn't Polly in
hand. I should have pulled her together and sent her over with a touch
of the whip. Apologise, Larry! 'Twas a fair race."

But Larry still hesitated, his glance straying doubtfully from one face
to the other.

"Honour bright, Clo?" he asked at last.

Clodagh nodded.

"Then I'm sorry, sir," he said frankly, "for saying what I said."

Milbanke made a murmur of forgiveness; and a moment later Nance
appeared upon the scene, breathless and full of curiosity. As Larry
entered upon a voluble account of the finish in reply to her eager
questions, Clodagh wheeled the mare round and trotted quickly across
the fields in the direction of the house.

For a moment or two Milbanke stood irresolute; then a sudden impulse to
follow the mare and her rider seized him, and ignoring Nance and
Larry--still absorbed in heated explanation--he took his way slowly
across the green and springy turf.

His crossing of the field was measured and methodical, and he had
barely come within sight of the arched gateway of the yard when Clodagh
reappeared--this time on foot. The tail of her habit was tucked under
one arm, the struggling form of an Irish terrier was held firmly under
the other.

She came straight forward in his direction; and, reaching him, would
have passed on without speaking. But he halted in front of her.

"Miss Clodagh," he said, "you are hurt and disappointed."

Clodagh averted her eyes.

"I'm not," she said shortly.

"But I see that you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Miss Clodagh, you are. Can't I do something?"

Then at last she looked at him. Her cheeks were burning, and her eyes
were brimming with tears that only pride held back.

"It isn't the old race," she said defiantly. "It's--it's Mick."

Two tears suddenly welled over and dropped on the red head of the dog,
who responded with an adoring look and a wild attempt to lick her face.

"Oh, I've had him since he was six weeks old!" she cried impulsively.
"I reared him and trained him myself! He knows every word I say."

Milbanke suddenly looked relieved.

"Is that all?" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Is that all? We'll soon put
that right. Keep your dog. I'll settle matters with your cousin."

He glanced back across the fields to where Larry was walking the cob to
and fro.

But Clod