MIN TO THE RESCUE
"The very man I wanted to see," cried Chris as they shook hands.
"You'll have some dinner? Mrs. Summers won't keep you waiting long."
Mackrell shook his head.
"I had all I want in town," he said, sitting down opposite Chris. He
look tired and ill; it is always easier for a dark man to look out of
sorts than a fair one, and in spite of all that he had lately
suffered, Chris had the advantage of the other at that moment.
"It's a rotten game, Trotting," said Carlton abruptly, "and I'm more
than sorry I ever encouraged Miss Gay to go in for it. But she has
won her Gold Vase, and now I hope she'll chuck the whole thing,
especially"--he smiled--"as I'm chucked."
Chris looked into the fire,
"When you think of the practices that go on at the game," said
Mackrell, "how a man will win a race with a certain horse, then fake
him, change his name, and enter him for another race under a
different name, and that the Stewards spend half their time
investigating 'shady cases,' it's almost an honour to be fired
out--at least, I know Rensslaer would think so."
Chris was still silent, staring into the fire.
"Can't you speak, man?" cried Mackrell irritably.
"You have laid Miss Gay under an obligation," said Chris quietly.
"She is the soul of honour--as you well know--and she will pay it to
the last penny. She gets her Gold Vase--yes, but you have played to
get what is worth a million gold vases--herself."
Mackrell uttered an exclamation of anger and half rose, but Chris
went on unmoved with what he had to say.
"Has it struck you that we are both rotters--both utterly selfish in
our aims and pursuits--that neither of us is good enough for that
dear little girl--that Rensslaer is a far finer sportsman, and better
all-round man than either of us? He is doing real good with his
breeding stables, and improvement of the breed of horses--he pursues
a definite aim that the State should be grateful for--that _is_
appreciated by almost every country but England--but what good are
you and I doing? Miss Gay hates my profession as jockey--its danger,
its excitement, its more or less unhealthy surroundings--yet I
persist in following it, and when I come to grief, inflict pain on
her.... And you, Mackrell, who lightly infect her with your own love
for Trotting, who are mainly responsible for her taking up a rôle
that few men would permit in a sister, are you much better than I am?
You wanted her company, and you got it--and, as usual, it's the woman
who has to pay."
"Damn it, man," burst out Mackrell fiercely, "you make me out a
scoundrel, who offers a farthing doll as a bribe to get possession of
a great treasure, but you're wrong, utterly wrong. Unless Miss Gay
sends for me, I shall not go near her--"
"And she will send," said Chris grimly. Too late he now remembered
that Min Toplady was with Carlton's suit heart and soul, and much too
clever not to make ample use to-night of the opportunity given her by
the day's events.
Mackrell looked up, his face suddenly grown old and lined.
"I came to you for bread, and you've given me a stone," he said.
"You make it impossible for me to ask Miss Gay to be my wife--and you
know it."
"I think you did wrong to cheat, so that she might win what was
practically valueless," said Chris quietly. "I repeat that you had
no right to lay her under such an enormous obligation."
"I did not expect to be bowled out," said Mackrell sullenly. "Her
dearest wish was to win the Vase--it was my earnest desire that she
should do so--my thoughts went no further than that. If that
infernal chap hadn't followed me, Miss Gay would have believed she
had won on her horse's merits, for you may be sure I should never
have undeceived her."
Chris silently held out his hand, and Mackrell, after a moment's
hesitation, took it.
"Can nothing be done?" said Chris. "It's preposterous that you are
to be made an example of like this! Have you seen Rensslaer?"
"No. I took Gay back to town--of course she did not know about me.
Heavens! I expect they're tearing her to pieces at Connaught Square.
It's on her account I'm here--I thought she might have 'phoned to
you--told you how she was."
"No, but I expect to hear presently. I've sent Min Toplady to her."
"Good old Min!" exclaimed Mackrell. "I'm sorry for anyone who
attempts to bully Miss Gay in _her_ presence."
Chris laughed.
"Have a drink, old man, and buck up," he said. "Unless I'm much
mistaken, Miss Gay drove her first and last race to-day, and her
horses will be "scratched" without delay. It wouldn't trouble me
much if mine were," he added gloomily, "for I have no luck."
The telephone bell rang.
"Yes--yes--are you there? It's all right, Mr. Chris, Miss Lossie is
gone--I've rated the Professor, and put Miss Gay to bed. There's
been a lot of fur and feathers flying ... _that_ Miss Lossie. I
'phoned Mr. Mackrell at his club, but he wasn't there. Miss Gay
wanted him to call to-morrow morning first thing after breakfast--"
"Here," said Chris, and held out the receiver to Carlton.
"Oh! it's you, Mr. Mackrell, that's all right--yes, I'll 'phone Miss
Gay in the morning that you're coming. What ... you can't ... you're
going to Paris! Miss Gay sent her love to Mr. Chris. Good-night."
* * * * * *
Gay had made no reply to the frequent and irritating knocks on her
door, but soon after eight had struck, a welcome voice issuing from
the keyhole made her jump up, and promptly turn the key.
"My lamb," cried Min Toplady, folding her in a motherly embrace, and
Gay, clinging to her, cried her heart out, and was comforted and made
comfortable, and presently, with the blinds pulled down, a wood fire
lit, and a dinner tray placed before her that the cook had carefully
prepared, Gay was able to laugh at herself, and even enjoy Min's
unconcealed delight at the brilliant style in which she had won her
race that day.
"Never saw you more bewitching," cried Min, "and the dress and
attitude were modest enough, it was only the idea of the thing, that
prudes might call indelicate. Toplady says all the men were wild
about you, for of course they knew about your driver being squiffy,
and thought it the gamest thing out, your driving yourself. Of
course," added Min, "your horse wasn't half good enough for you, my
dear, or even as good as Mr. Carlton's--"
"Oh, Min!" cried Gay, "Mr. Mackrell has ruined himself that I might
win that wretched Gold Vase!"
"Stuff and nonsense!" said Min stoutly. "His toe weights were all
right, and as to what that rascal swore to, there's not a word of
truth in it. Why, one of that lot would sell his own soul for a
shilling, and tell any lie for sixpence. Not but what he wanted you
to win, Miss Gay, for he worships every hair of your head, but he was
getting tired of the game, and ain't sorry to quit it. And, my
lamb," went on Min tenderly, "you've had your bit of fun, and you've
won what you wanted, and if I were you I'd leave it at that, now Mr.
Mackrell won't be here to make things pleasant for you."
"Oh, Min," cried Gay sadly, "you also! Everyone is against me--even
Mr. Hannen. He must have seen the papers to-night--what _will_ he
say?"
"It was Mr. Chris who asked me to come up and see you," said Min
reluctantly, for Carlton Mackrell's chances with Gay had never seemed
to her better than now, if he only followed them up quickly.
Tears sprang to Gay's eyes at this evidence of Chris's thought for
her, and an intense longing to see, and speak with him, seized her.
She had begged the Professor to take her on one of his frequent
visits to Epsom, but he had always refused, very unkindly, as Gay
thought.
"Did he think I was in trouble, then?" she said, and blushed.
"He knew Mr. Mackrell's being warned off would upset you, I expect,"
said Min, "also," she added with a sniff, "he may have thought Mr.
Frank and _that_ Miss Lossie would be getting at you, and you wanted
protection."
At that moment a knock came at the door, and a servant appeared with
a message from the Professor, requesting Mrs. Toplady to give him a
few minutes' conversation in his study. With an ominous flounce, and
toss of the head, but a reassuring squeeze of the hand to Gay, Min
descended, full of fight, to find, as she expected, Lossie lounging
by the fireplace.
"Good-evening, Mr. Frank," said Min beamingly. "I'm paying you a
return visit, you see. Hope you got home all right that time?"
The Professor squirmed, and pushed forward a chair, upon which Min
settled her ample person, then, affecting to see Lossie for the first
time, remarked in a tone of lofty rebuke:
"You shouldn't sit moping so near the fire, Miss Holden--it makes
your nose red--for you're no chicken, and it's sinful to spoil your
chances of a husband like that! Now Miss Gay, with her outdoor life
and sports, will never grow old, or want for lovers, bless her!"
"It's just about these sports that I wanted to speak to you, Min,"
said the Professor with nervous haste. "The--ah--shocking exhibition
my sister made of herself to-day--"
"Wonderful driving for a beginner--won-der-ful!" said Min admiringly.
"Did you ever hear such cheering? Trotting 'ud soon look up if you
could get half-a-dozen Miss Gays to drive their own horses."
"I don't believe that out of all England you'd find one other such
immodest girl as my cousin," said Lossie, "or one family that would
permit her to do what she did to-day."
"How could I stop her?" cried the Professor irascibly. "I nearly had
a fit when she appeared on the track."
"You could have stopped it at the beginning," said Lossie sharply,
"before she had ruined Carlton Mackrell's career, and made of herself
a public scandal."
"It must be a comfort to you, Miss Lossie," said Min silkily, "that
_you_ hadn't enough influence with Mr. Mackrell to make him do
anything wrong. He just worships Miss Gay, and when he found she had
set her heart on the Gold Vase, why, he took care that she should get
it, like the true lover that he is!"
"This woman has always been a bad influence with Gay," Lossie said
furiously to Frank, "and they make a combination that will be too
strong for you, if you don't look out."
"I came here to talk to Mr. Frank, not you," said Min equably. "My
motto is, 'let every tub stand on its own bottom,' and if I were you,
I'd try and get some beaux of my own, and not be always grabbing at
Miss Gay's."
"Insolent woman!" cried Lossie, with flashing eyes, but Min merely
nodded in a maddening way, and said:
"You always hated Miss Gay because all the men loved her--what one
man likes, the rest mostly do, and perhaps if you could have got hold
of _one_, Miss Lossie, others might have come along too. At present
it looks as if you'll have to put up with poor Mr. Frank after all,
for you can't live without plenty of money!"
Having produced her effect, if the Professor's terror-struck face
were to be trusted, Min proceeded to the discussion of the matter
really in hand.
"You want Miss Gay to give up Trotting," she said, addressing Frank
quietly, "and now she hasn't Mr. Mackrell to help her, I think
perhaps she'll be willing. But if you bully her, Mr. Frank, she'll
go on with it just to defy you, for Miss Gay has got a temper and a
will of her own, for all that she's the sweetest, and best, and
prettiest little lady in the world."
"What do you advise?" said the Professor quaveringly, for Min's
reckless unveiling of Lossie's secret intentions towards himself
(failing anyone else) had half-frightened him out of his senses.
"I advise you to let her alone, Mr. Frank," said Min, "and make that
poke-nose"--she pointed an accusing finger at Lossie--"stop at home,
and not come here meddling and interfering, for if Miss Gay wants
advice, Mr. Rensslaer'll be the one to give it, and settle what's to
be done about her horses. And now, Mr. Frank, I'll say good-night,
as I'm going to put my lamb to bed, and if you want me at any time,
why, you know where to find me, and any hospitality Toplady and me
can show you, (one eye closed in an almost imperceptible wink) we'll
be proud and happy, I'm sure."
"Good-bye, Min," said Frank hurriedly, as he opened the door for her
to go upstairs, then skipping out with her, closed it behind him--and
ran.
Min stood, shaking with laughter, as in the distance she heard the
laboratory door shut, and the key turned.