"
"I am not nervous in that way," Bathurst said, with a laugh. "My
pet horror is noise; thunder prostrates me completely, and in fact
all noises, especially any sharp, sudden sound, affect me. I really
find it a great nuisance. I fancy a woman with nerves considers
herself as a martyr, and deserving of all pity and sympathy. It is
almost a fashionable complaint, and she is a little proud of it;
but a man ought to have his nerves in good order, and as much as
that is expected of him unless he is a feeble little body. There
is the bell for the next race."
"Are you going to bet on this race again, Miss Hannay?" Wilson
said, coming up.
"No, Mr. Wilson. I have done my first and last bit of gambling.
I don't think it is nice, ladies betting, after all, and if there
were a hospital here I should order you to send the money the
gloves will cost you to it as conscience money, and then perhaps
you might follow my example with your winnings."
"My conscience is not moved in any way," he laughed; "when it is
I will look out for a deserving charity. Well, if you won't bet I
must see if I can make a small investment somewhere else."
"I shall see you at the ball, of course?" Isobel said, turning to
Mr. Bathurst, as Wilson left the carriage.
"No, I think not. Balls are altogether out of my line, and as there
is always a superabundance of men at such affairs here, there is
no sense of duty about it."
"What is your line, Mr. Bathurst?"
"I am afraid I have none, Miss Hannay.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132