She was kept waiting quite five minutes, which she pa.s.sed standing like a statue in the middle of the hall, till there was a husky cough, and Simpkins came hurrying out, trying with fat, clumsy fingers to thrust a little white, folded paper, very suggestive of "the powder at night"

into his waistcoat pocket, where it refused at first to go.

"Beg pardon, my lady," he said, after a quick glance up at the gallery.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Very busy to-day."

"Mr Simpkins?" said the lady, haughtily.

"That's me, my lady; but if you want accommodation I'm afraid we're full."

"My husband--Sir Hilton Lisle. He is here?" said the lady, sternly.

The trainer's jaw dropped, and, like lightning, a thought flashed through his brain.

The wife, to stop the gentleman from mounting the mare! It was salvation.

But the next moment the hope died out. In such an emergency the wife's appeal would be as so much breath. It would be like grasping at a shadow and letting the substance go.

"Do you not understand, my man?" said Lady Lisle, impatiently. "My husband--he is here?"

"Sir Hilton Lisle, Bart.?" said the trainer, who determined to stick to the substance and let the shadow glide. "Oh, no, my lady, he ain't here."

"Where is he, then?"

"I dunno, my lady," replied the man, coolly. "At the races, I should suppose."

"How could I find him in all that crowd?" murmured the unhappy woman.

Then, setting her teeth hard to suppress the feeling of pa.s.sion that was growing fast, she turned to the man again, and her voice was perfectly firm and cold, as she said authoritatively: "You have a daughter, man?"

"That's right, my lady," said the trainer, and he smiled faintly. "Oh,"

he continued, "I suppose I know what brings your ladyship here."

And once more a thought crossed his mind as to the possibility of stopping Sir Hilton's jockeyship by setting his wife upon his track.

But he dismissed it directly, to respond to his visitor's command.

"I suppose you do, sir," she said haughtily. "Send the woman here."

"Woman, eh? Why, she's a mere gal, my lady."

"Don't speak to me like that, man," cried Lady Lisle. "Where is your daughter?"

"On the grand stand, I s'pose, along o' him."

"This is monstrous!" cried Lady Lisle, pa.s.sionately. "Oh, man, can you stand there with that base effrontery and speak to me like this?"

"Can I, my lady? Yes. Why not? I'm not your paid servant, and I dessay if we totted up together and compared notes, I, Sam Simpkins, trainer, could show as good a hincome as your ladyship. At least, I could yesterday," he muttered.

"Yes, yes, no doubt; but have you no sense of the moral wrong? Are you shameless, or ignorant of your responsibility to your child?"

"Well, you're a-pitching it pretty strong, my lady; but I won't kick, for I dessay you do find it rather a bitter pill to swallow."

"Man, you are shameless!" cried Lady Lisle, and the trainer chuckled.

"Well, my lady, I'm not troubled much with that sort o' thing.

Bashfulness is a bit in the way in my trade."

"I'll set it down to ignorance, then."

"That's better, my lady. I never set up as a scholar."

"Let me appeal to you, then. Have you done nothing to stop it?"

"Never knowed a word about it till this blessed morning, my lady," cried the trainer, with a display of indignation. "Saucy young baggage! She kep' it dark enough."

"Ha! Then you have some feeling for your child."

"Feeling, my lady! Course I have; and I'd ha' stopped it if I'd known before it was too late."

Lady Lisle winced as if she had received a blow. "But, now--now," she cried, "you will immediately take proceedings?"

"Bah! What can I do?"

"Oh, think, man, of the wrong it is doing me."

"Tchah! It's of no use to talk now, my lady. Pride's a very nice thing in its way, but they say it must have a fall. Love and natur', my lady, gets the better of us all. You and me understands what it is, and you see now that you couldn't always have him tied to your ap.r.o.n-string."

"Man, have you no feeling?"

"Quite enough for my business, my lady."

"But I insist you shall stop it at once."

"Don't I tell you, my lady," cried the trainer, with a glance up at number one, "that it's too late? She'll be having him hear her directly," he added to himself. "There, chuck it up, my lady," he continued, "and go home. This place on a race day ain't sootable for you. Take my word, you'll soon get used to it."

"The man is a monster," groaned Lady Lisle, wringing her hands. "Man, man," she cried, "you shock me. If you have no feeling or respect for your child--"

"Me, my lady? Of course, I have. Why," added the trainer, "I like it."

"Wretched man! Such depravity!"

"Depravity be blowed, my lady! Here, I can put up with a good deal, but you're pitching it too strong. Come, I won't get in a temper with you, my lady, though I am horribly tried just now. Come, I'm speaking fair as a man can speak; hadn't you better climb down?"

"Think of the scandal, man."

"My name's Simpkins, my lady, please. If your set may call it a scandal, mine won't mind. As for me, I think it's a very good thing for the girl."

"I can bear no more of this," muttered Lady Lisle, faintly. "It is too much. Oh! man, man, I looked for help and sympathy from you; but in your shameless ignorance you have done nothing but outrage my feelings."

"Very sorry, my lady; but you should have come and met me civil-like, as the father of as pretty a la.s.s as ever stepped. 'Stead o' which you comes in your carriage and walks in on stilts, and begins a-bully-ragging me as if I was still Sir Hilton's servant. Now, look here, my lady, you've kep' on calling me man, man, man, and it's true I am a man, and a man with a temper; but I don't like to be reminded of it over and over again, and in my own house, because them two began making love, as is the nat'ralest thing in natur'."