"I am so much obliged to you," said Margaret after a pause, "now I shall quite enjoy this day"s pleasure."
Harriet laughed, and drove on as fast as she could.
"So shall I," she said; "my horse will be as fresh as a lark when we get to the course; and these horses are worth driving. George--Mr. Gage, I mean, knows how to buy a horse."
"Suppose," said Margaret, "they were to run away."
"Then we should get to S---- all the faster," said Harriet.
"But you have not strength to stop them," said Margaret.
"Granted," said Harriet. "Here, will you take the reins for a moment?"
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Margaret looking up into her companion"s face.
"I know where George keeps his cigars. I am going to take one, that"s all."
Margaret looked aghast.
"They are perfectly quiet, on my word," said Harriet. "Oh! about the smoking. Do you mind it then?"
"No," returned Margaret, who had never been in company with any one while smoking. "I"ll take the reins; but pray be quick."
Harriet was quick; before Margaret had time to be frightened, she had lit a cigar, and resumed the reins with all the unconcern in the world.
"I learned this at Madrid," she said from between her teeth. "Some day, if you please me, I"ll tell you my history."
"All of it?" asked Margaret, looking up into her companion"s face.
"Oh, yes! no half measures," returned Harriet.
They went to S---- by a cross-country road, and therefore fell in with very few of those who were likewise bound for the course. And by those few, Harriet, with her hat and habit, her short hair and cigar, was supposed as she whirled past them, to be a handsome boy.
Mr. Gage was already on the course with his party; he rode up with his brother and Mr. Haveloc to escort the ladies to the stand. Harriet had her horse brought up to the steps of the carriage, mounted at once, and rode off with Mr. Conway; and Hubert insisted on conducting Margaret to Elizabeth pleading his sister"s commands to that effect.
And now they were seated in the very front of the stand, Elizabeth and Margaret together; the gentlemen of their party were dispersed about the course, and Margaret could distinguish in the distance the slight figure of Harriet Conway, guiding her spirited horse among the company, followed by her father and brother. She soon, however, lost sight of her in the crowd, and began to feel impatient for the first race to begin.
Now, their places being very good, attracted the envy of a couple of insolent dragoon officers, who had just arrived, and who tried by pushing in a most unjustifiable manner, to edge themselves in. Elizabeth turned round in haughty surprise, Margaret in childish wonder, and presented to the eyes of the eager officers, two of the loveliest faces on the race course.
"Oh!" said one of these cavaliers to the other, drawing back with a very blank and crest-fallen face, "Oh! I didn"t know they were young uns!"
Margaret could hardly restrain her laughter at this audible e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.
Miss Gage contented herself by thanking Heaven with a curved lip, that they were soldiers.
"No sailor," she said to Margaret, "would ever annoy a woman, young or old. I am glad they were rude, these dragoons!"
The contempt with which this last word was p.r.o.nounced, all the keener for its calmness, can scarcely be imagined.
"But I ought to apologise to you, dear," she continued; "though to suppose that your brave father had the most distant affinity to these popinjays, would be indeed too insulting."
Presently the race began, and Margaret forgot all about the rudeness of the officers in the interest of the scene.
After the race, they were joined by some of the gentlemen of their party. George Gage came up to his sister and leaned against the railing by her side, in that frame of mind so common to English people, which is called an ill-humour.
"Have you lost, George?" asked Elizabeth.
"No. I have no inducement to bet here," said Mr. Gage; "a miserable counterfeit of a race like this. I keep my losses for Epsom."
"And whereabouts is Harriet?"
"On the other side of the course with Charles Conway, and Lord Raymond.
I congratulate her very much upon her choice. The fellow seems to have been born and bred in a stable."
"I hardly know him," said Elizabeth; "but I am afraid Harriet will be very tired, riding about so long, I wish she could be persuaded to sit quietly here until we go home."
"I will try if you wish it," said Mr. Gage, "but it can hardly be expected that she should leave so great an attraction as Lord Raymond."
"Go," said Elizabeth laughing, "I don"t imagine his Lordship to be so irresistible."
As Mr. Gage was leaving the stand, he encountered the two officers before mentioned, who had crept to some distance from the ladies. One of these worthies had only lately exchanged from Mr. Gage"s regiment into the one he now adorned, and he presented his companion to George.
There was some bowing, and lifting of hats and shaking of hands, and then George invited them to dine at his father"s before the ball, and join their party thither, to which they readily agreed.
His mission proved successful. In a few minutes Harriet came in followed by her brother and Lord Raymond.
Margaret was very curious to see this n.o.bleman; and although she had thought Mr. Gage"s remark very harsh, she was not much surprised at it when he made his appearance. He was ill-dressed, not very young, clumsy in his person, and heavy in the expression of his features. He stammered a good deal, and was not happy in his conversational powers. His ideas were rather slow of circulation. He had got it into his head that it was the duty of an Englishman to cultivate racing; and it would have taken more years than he was likely to live, to convince him that it was a pernicious and disgraceful occupation. He was very much on the turf, but he was just skilful and cautious enough neither to gain or lose much in a year by the vice. At the present moment, Harriet was the object of his attention, and he therefore talked of nothing else.
One of the party congratulated him upon his horse, which had just won the race.
"Yes," he said, "he was glad of it; for Miss Conway had betted upon Rory O"More."
Miss Gage asked him "if he had any other horse running that day?"
"No," he replied, "as he should leave the course presently. How was Miss Conway going home?"
Lady Conway remarked to him, "that it was a cold day."
"It was, indeed," he said, "he did not think Miss Conway seemed to be sufficiently wrapped up."
Harriet replied to both his remarks at once. "She said, that she meant to drive herself home, and that she was quite warm enough."
And by this time, the races being over for the day, and the company beginning to disperse, Harriet called to Margaret, and sent her brother to look for the carriage. Margaret was not sorry to be gone; she had a head-ache, which had been gradually growing worse, and she hoped that the fresh air would blow it away. Harriet lit another cigar as they went off the course; she asked Margaret again "if she objected to it?" and again Margaret said "No;" for though she thought it a very odd fancy in her companion, she did not find the smell disagreeable enough to oppose it. But her head became worse, and when she reached home, she was scarcely able to dress for dinner. She made an effort, however, and went down stairs. There were no candles in the drawing-room, which was dimly lighted by a very moderate fire.
Margaret felt chilly, and took a chair as close as she could to the fire-place, next to a person who seemed to be in a uniform, as far as she could tell by the glimmering light. He entered into general conversation with her, and among other desultory remarks, asked her "if she meant to accompany her daughter to the ball that evening?"
Margaret ascribed the mistake to the darkness, and contented herself with replying in the negative.
The stranger was directed to take her into the dining-room, and as they came into a blaze of light on crossing the hall, he discovered that the lady he had the honour of escorting was young and beautiful; for he had mistaken her for Mrs. Somerton, who was about Margaret"s height.