ace.
Go and marry him. Live in a kennel. But don't come to me for a bone,
don't think I'm to be talked over, because that's not my habit. If you
choose such a man as that--"

"I do not choose him. There are few I would not sooner marry. I am
thinking of my good name--of our good name. If I marry Willy Forrest,
they will say that I helped to cheat the public. Do you not know that it
is being said already. The horse was pulled--I believe that I am not to
be allowed to race again. Poor Mr. Farrier is terribly upset. They say
that we were all cheats together. What can I do, father? If I pay the
money and they know that we lost it, that is a good answer to them. If I
do not, Willy is probably the one man who can put matters straight and I
shall marry him."

She rose as though this was the end of the argument. Her words, lightly
spoken, were so transparently honest that the shrewd man of business
summed up the whole situation in an instant. The mere possibility that
his name should be mixed up with a racing scandal staggered him by its
dangers and its absurdity. Anger against his daughter became in some
measure compassion. Of course she was but a woman and a clever charlatan
had entrapped her.

"Sit down--sit down," he said bluffly, motioning her back to her seat.
"It is perfectly clear that this William Forrest of yours is a rogue,
and as a rogue we must treat him. I am astonished at what you tell me.
It is a piece of nonsense, women's sense as ridiculous as the silly
business which is responsible for it. Of course you must pay them the
money. I will do the rest, Anna. I have friends who will quickly put
that matter straight--and if your rogue finds his way to a race-course
again, he is a very lucky man. Now sit down and let me speak to you in
my turn, Anna. I want you to speak about Alban--I want to hear how you
like him. He has now been with us long enough for us to know something
about him. Let us see if your opinion agrees with mine."

His keen scrutiny detected a flush upon her face while he asked the
question and he understood that all he had suspected had been nothing
but the truth. Anna had come to love this open-minded lad who had been
forced upon them by such an odd train of circumstances; her threats
concerning Willy Forrest were the merest bravado. Gessner would have
trembled at the knowledge a week ago, but to-night it found him
singularly complacent. He listened to Anna's response with the air of a
light-h