“I have rather a fancy that we shan’t
do so, Hawkins. We will do our best, but I have
met Mr. Carthew a good many times, for we were at
school and college together, and somehow or other he
has always managed to beat me.”
“Ah! well, we will turn the tables on him this
time, sir.”
“I hope so, but it has gone so often the other
way that I have got to be a little superstitious about
it. I would give a good deal to beat him.
I should like to win the Queen’s Cup, as you
know; but even if I didn’t win it I should be
quite satisfied if I but beat him.”
It was the week of the Ryde Regatta. At that
time Ryde disputed with Cowes the glory of being the
headquarters of yachting, and the scene was a gay
one. Every house in the neighbourhood was crowded
with guests, many had been let for the week at fabulous
rates, the town was bright with flags, and a great
fleet of yachts was moored off the town, extending
from the pier westward as far as the hulks. The
lawn of the Victoria Yacht Club was gay with ladies,
a military band was playing, boats rowed backwards
and forwards between the yachts and the clubhouses.
It was the first day of the Regatta, and the Queen’s
Cup was not to be sailed for until the third.
On the previous morning Frank had received a note
from Lady Greendale, saying that they had arrived
with Lord Haverley’s party the day before, and
enclosing an invitation from him to dinner that day.
He went up to call as soon as he received it, but
excused himself from dining on the ground of a previous
engagement, as he felt sure that Carthew would be one
of the party.
“I suppose, Lady Greendale, it is no use asking
you and Bertha to sail in the Osprey on Friday?”
“I should not think of going, Frank. A
racing yacht is no place for an old lady. As
for Bertha, she is already engaged. Mr. Carthew
asked her a fortnight since to sail on the Phantom.
Lady Olive Marston and her cousin, Miss Haverley,
are also going. I know that it is not very usual
for ladies to go on racing yachts, but they are all
accustomed to yachting, and Mr. Carthew declares that
they won’t be in the way in the least.”
“I don’t see why they should be,”
Frank said, after a short pause. “Of course,
in a small boat it would be different, but in a craft
like the Phantom there is plenty of room for two or
three ladies without their getting in the way of the
crew.
“Well, I must be going,” he broke off
somewhat hastily, for he saw a group coming down the
garden path towards the house.
It consisted of Bertha and two other ladies, Carthew
and another man.
“What other evening would suit you, Frank?”
Lady Greendale asked as he rose.
“I am afraid I am engaged all through the week,
Lady Greendale.”
“I am sorry,” she said, quietly, “but
perhaps it is for the best, Frank.”
