He wanted to see more colour in her cheeks, wanted
to see her laugh. He had an invitation to his
old regiment’s drag, where the champagne was
sure to be good. And he was so proud of her—would
not have missed those young fellows’ admiration
of her for the world; though to take a lady amongst
them was, in fact, against the rules. It was
not, then, till the second race was due to start that
they made their way into the paddock. Here the
Derby horses were being led solemnly, attended each
by a little posse of persons, looking up their legs
and down their ribs to see whether they were worthy
of support, together with a few who liked to see a
whole horse at a time. Presently they found
the animal which had been recommended to the Colonel.
It was a chestnut, with a starred forehead, parading
in a far corner. The Colonel, who really loved
a horse, was deep in admiration. He liked its
head and he liked its hocks; above all, he liked its
eye. A fine creature, all sense and fire—perhaps
just a little straight in the shoulder for coming
down the hill! And in the midst of his examination
he found himself staring at his niece. What breeding
the child showed, with her delicate arched brows,
little ears, and fine, close nostrils; and the way
she moved—so sure and springy. She
was too pretty to suffer! A shame! If she
hadn’t been so pretty that young fellow wouldn’t
have fallen in love with her. If she weren’t
so pretty—that husband of hers wouldn’t—!
And the Colonel dropped his gaze, startled by the
discovery he had stumbled on. If she hadn’t
been so pretty! Was that the meaning of it all?
The cynicism of his own reflection struck him between
wind and water. And yet something in himself
seemed to confirm it somehow. What then?
Was he to let them tear her in two between them, destroying
her, because she was so pretty? And somehow
this discovery of his—that passion springs
from worship of beauty and warmth, of form and colour—disturbed
him horribly, for he had no habit of philosophy.
The thought seemed to him strangely crude, even immoral.
That she should be thus between two ravening desires—a
bird between two hawks, a fruit between two mouths!
It was a way of looking at things that had never
before occurred to him. The idea of a husband
clutching at his wife, the idea of that young man
who looked so gentle, swooping down on her; and the
idea that if she faded, lost her looks, went off, their
greed, indeed, any man’s, would die away—all
these horrible ideas hurt him the more for the remarkable
suddenness with which they had come to him. A
tragic business! Dolly had said so. Queer
and quick—were women! But his resolution
that the day was to be jolly soon recurred to him,
and he hastily resumed inspection of his fancy.
Perhaps they ought to have a ten-pound note on it,
and they had better get back to the Stand! And
as they went the Colonel saw, standing beneath a tree
at a little distance, a young man that he could have