'Cake? it was a cake. You seem to have an idea I stayed away on pleasure.'
'Well, you know, it was an atrocious day, with a fierce east gully wind. It's always a little cooler at Reynella.'
'Not on the 26th, with an amateur steeplechase and only a mob of young bachelors together.'
'But then, in the evening, instead of dressing for dinner, no doubt you lounged in pyjamas and smoked, and had "long drinks" out on the verandas. Whereas we fanned ourselves languidly through thirteen courses, and listened to the good old Bishop speaking on surpliced choirs and the ultimate cost of the cathedral. I certainly thought you had the best of it. But now I see you really were ill. Did you have a sunstroke, or did your horse roll over you--or what?'
'Oh, it was just what!' answered Ritchie grimly. 'The fact is, I'--he was staring hard at the girl as he spoke, but something in her gay smiling unconsciousness arrested the words on his lips--'I believe my heart has gone back on me rather badly. It keeps thumping about in the most confounded manner.'
'Your heart, Ted? Now do you know what side it is on?' she asked laughingly.
'Oh yes, Stella, it's all very well for you. You're on the right side of the hedge. You never had a day's illness in your life since you were a baby. I've had many an attack. And to have old Mac and his wife bringing you in beef-tea you can't drink, and lie awake half the night, and no one to talk to, or ride out with in the morning and have some fun---- You can't wonder I run off to Melbourne pretty often. What is there to keep me at home? Now, if you were there--but I'm not going to say any more just now. I am going on to Strathhaye, to see to a few things there; and then I'm going to have a complete change for some months. I've been feeling rather dicky off and on for some time. Oh yes, I look well enough generally; but you can't always go by that. I think I shall give up horse-racing--it keeps a fellow racketing about so.'
'What! sell Konrad and Circe, and all the rest, and have no more "sweet little fillies" and year-old colts, that are so knowing and thoroughbred they take to racing almost without being told? What in the world would you talk about, Ted?'
'Oh, I wouldn't sell them all. I'll always keep good horses. I can't stand any other kind; but not to go flying about from one race-meeting to the other. It begins to tell on a fellow after a few years. I think I'll try and read a little more. You remember the list of books I got you to give me once? Well, there's a big boxful at Strathhaye never opened. I'll take it with me. But I don't think I can ever make much out of sonnets, Stella.'