they asked me down there."

Soames coughed: the news was distasteful to him. "What's his wife like
now?"

"Very quiet, but nice, I think."

Soames coughed again. "He's a rackety chap, your Cousin Val."

"Oh! no, Father; they're awfully devoted. I promised to go--Saturday to
Wednesday next."

"Training race-horses!" said Soames. It was extravagant, but not the
reason for his distaste. Why the deuce couldn't his nephew have stayed
out in South Africa? His own divorce had been bad enough, without his
nephew's marriage to the daughter of the co-respondent; a half-sister
too of June, and of that boy whom Fleur had just been looking at from
under the pump-handle. If he didn't look out, she would come to know
all about that old disgrace! Unpleasant things! They were round him this
afternoon like a swarm of bees!

"I don't like it!" he said.

"I want to see the race-horses," murmured Fleur; "and they've promised
I shall ride. Cousin Val can't walk much, you know; but he can ride
perfectly. He's going to show me their gallops."

"Racing!" said Soames. "It's a pity the War didn't knock that on the
head. He's taking after his father, I'm afraid."