Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-07-24

master eatables as we'll.
Don't care cent" said Cynthia, who
found the lobster admirable.
But if any inquiry is made and our names
are mixed up in it, Mr.. Vanrenen may be
angry
insist on paying for everything, of course,
thank you" this to Medenham, who was Of
fering her glass of wine. Il drink water
only. Have you anyl'
Mrs. Devar took the wine, and Medenham
fiShed in the basket for the St. Galmier, since
Lady St. Maur cultivated govt with her
biliousness.
Dear mel" she murmured after sip.
what is it now?" asked Cynthia.
Perfect, my dear Such bouquet! l
wonder what house it came from?" and she
pondered the crest again; but in vain. tor
heraldrv is an exact science, and the greater
part of her education had been given by
hard world. She did not fail, therefore, to
notice that three persons were catered for
by the packer of the basket An unknown
upper housemaid was already suspected and
now she added mentally ''some shopgirl
friend" The climax was reached when
Medenham staged the strawberries. Gym
thia, to whom the good things of the table
were commonplace. ate them and was
thankful; but Mrs. Devar made another
note:
Ten shillings basket, at the very least
and three basketsi'
A DEEP, booming yell from the mob pro-
claimed that the second race was in
progress.
Il can't see thing unless l am perched
on the seat, and if l stand up | shall upset
the crockery," announced Cynthia. "But
am not interested yet awhile. If Grimalkin
wins, shall shout myself hoarse."
He hasn't ghost of chance said
Medenham.
"Oh, but he has! Mr.. Deane told my
father"
But Tomkinson told me-" he inter-
rupted. 49,.
'Tomkinson. Is that your butler friend?"
Eyes. He says the Kings horse will
Win"
Surely the owner of Grimalkin must
know more about the race than a butler?"
"You would not think so, Miss Vanrenen,
if you knew Tomkinson."
"Where is he butler?" asked Mrs. Devar
suavely.
Il forget for the moment, madam, re-
piled Medenham with equal suavity.
The lady waived the retort. She was sure
of her ground now. In any case, imagine
that both Mr.. Deane and this Tomkinson
may be mistaken. l am told that horse
trained locally has splendid chance. Let
me see-yes, here it is, the Hon. Charles
Fenton's Vendetta"
1t was we'll that those bullying steel-gray
eyes were bent over the card, or they could
not have failed to catch the flicker of amaze
ment that swept across Medenham's sun
Drowned face when he heard the name of his
cousin. He had not been in England full
week as yet. and he happened not to have
read list of probable starters for the Derby.
He had glanced at the program during
breakfast that morning; but some remark
made by the Earl caused him to lay down
the newspaper, and, when next he picked it
up, he became interested in an article on
the Cape to Cairo railway, written by some
one who had not the remotest notion of the
difficulties to be surmounted before that
very desirable line could be constructed.
CYNTHIA, however. was watching him, and
she laughed gleefully. "Ah, Fitzroy, you
hadn't heard of Vendetta before!" she cried.
Confess now-your faith in Tomkinson
is shaken"
Vendetta does certainly sound like war
to the knife" said he.
ut is twenty to one" purred Mrs. Devar
complacently. Il shall risk the five pounds