ons herself. Stylites on his pillar was less exclusive. Nor did
he take his exalted but lonely position with less sense of humor. When
Ingram died and left her many millions to dispose of absolutely as she
pleased, even to the allowance she should give their daughter, he left
her with but one ambition unfulfilled. That was to marry her Dolly to
an English duke. Hungarian princes, French marquises, Italian counts,
German barons, Mrs. Ingram could not see. Her son-in-law must be a
duke. She had her eyes on two, one somewhat shopworn, and the other a
bankrupt; and in training, she had one just coming of age. Already she
saw her self a sort of a dowager duchess by marriage, discussing with
real dowager duchesses the way to bring up teething earls and viscounts.
For three years in Europe Mrs. Ingram had been drilling her daughter for
the part she intended her to play. But, on returning to her native land,
Dolly, who possessed all the feelings, thrills, and heart-throbs of
which her mother was ignorant, ungratefully fell deeply in love
with Champneys Carter, and he with her. It was always a question of
controversy between them as to which had first fallen in love with the
other. As a matter of history, honors were even.

He first saw her during a thunder storm, in the paddock at the races,
wearing a rain-coat with the collar turned up and a Panama hat with the
brim turned down. She was talking, in terms of affectionate familiarity,
with Cuthbert's two-year-old, The Scout. The Scout had just lost a
race by a nose, and Dolly was holding the nose against her cheek and
comforting him. The two made a charming picture, and, as Carter stumbled
upon it and halted, the race-horse lowered his eyes and seemed to say:
"Wouldn't YOU throw a race for this?" And the girl raised her eyes and
seemed to say: "What a nice-looking, bright-looking young man! Why don't
I know who you are?"

So, Carter ran to find Cuthbert, and told him The Scout had gone lame.
When, on their return, Miss Ingram refused to loosen her hold on The
Scout's nose, Cuthbert apologetically mumbled Carter's name, and in some
awe Miss Ingram's name, and then, to his surprise, both young people
lost interest in The Scout, and wandered away together into the rain.

After an hour, when they parted at the club stand, for which Carter
could not afford a ticket, he asked wistfully: "Do you often come
racing?" and Miss Ingram said: "Do you mean, am I coming to-morrow?"

"I do!"