I believe that when they
wager against each other, which they do not often do, they are
strictly honest, but that otherwise their memories are apt to fail
them altogether."
"That is a libel, Mrs. Hunter, is it not?"
"Not altogether, I think. Of course many ladies do pay their bets
when they lose, but others certainly do not."
"Then I call it very mean," Isobel said earnestly. "Why, it is
as bad as asking anyone to make you a present of so many pairs of
gloves in case a certain horse wins."
"It comes a good deal to the same thing," Mrs. Hunter admitted,
"but to a certain extent it is a recognized custom; it is a sort
of tribute that is exacted at race time, just as in France every
lady expects a present from every gentleman of her acquaintance on
New Year's Day."
"I wouldn't bet if I didn't mean to pay honestly," Isobel said.
"And if Mr. Prothero doesn't win, my debts will all be honorably
discharged."
There was a hush of expectation in the crowd when the ten horses
whose numbers were up went down to the starting point, a quarter
of a mile from the stand. They were to pass it, make the circuit,
and finish there, the race being two miles. The interest of
the natives was enlisted by the fact that Nana Sahib was running
a horse, while the hopes of the occupants of the inclosure rested
principally on Seila.
The flag fell to a good start; but when the horses came along
Isobel saw with surprise that the dark blue of the Rajah and the
Adjutant's scarlet and white were both in the rear of the group.
Pages:
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127