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her.”
    “It’s not that,” said Sadie, shaking her head in perplexity. “He is said to have a good £10,000 a year or more.”
    “He could manage on that, though I suppose it might be a bit tight. There’s many a better does it on less,” he added stubbornly. 
    “His father was quite a sporting gentleman,” remembered Sadie. “Addicted to the turf, as I remember. Nearly ruined his estate. Perhaps Tony don’t care to do the same.”
    But Sir John would not allow it. “That’s ridiculous! He needn’t support his own stables, and you know it. He could always hire a hack. That’s coming it a bit strong, Sadie. I don’t see why you need defend the fellow. He’s little better than a coxcomb! Did you see that cane?”
    Sadie knew her defense sounded weak to her sporting-enthusiast brother, but she stood her ground. “Perhaps there is no understanding it, John,” she sighed impatiently. “But you are wrong about Tony. Whatever his faults, I cannot help but like the man.”
     

CHAPTER THREE
     
    The object of their discussion was at this moment turning his team of high spirited horses in the direction of Hyde Park with a skillful flick of his whip. He managed to keep up a spanking pace and still catch a glimpse of his companion out the corner of one eye.  Sophie was regarding the horses in front of her with fixed attention. Though it might not be thought particular in London for a single lady to ride out with a gentleman alone, she was thinking that it seemed very particular to her. She had never been alone with a strange gentleman before, if you could call sitting atop a high perch phaeton in the middle of a busy London street “being alone.”
    Tony’s lips twitched understandingly as he watched her in silence, noting the softness of lowered lashes against her cheeks. But presently he ventured a question. “Are you paying careful attention to the ribbons, as your aunt suggested. Miss Corby? I shall be glad to give you instruction as we go along.”
    Sophie blushed delightfully, but was glad for the excuse to talk. “Yes,” she said with little honesty. “I do not see how you manage to keep them so steady.”
    “There is no trick to it,” said Tony. “You must simply keep the reins to your leaders separate from those to your wheelers so that you may direct them separately—just so.” He showed her which fingers to lace the reins through so as to hold them properly. Of course, this obliged Sophie to look up at him and to observe his actions minutely. She began to enjoy herself.
    After watching him negotiate a narrow space between a milk cart and a bookseller’s stall, she remembered his final conversation with her Aunt Sadie and a suspicion that had then crossed her mind. So she asked, “Don’t you wish to be a member of the Four-Horse Club, Sir Tony?” Her own brothers had such strong aspirations to that honour that she was again mystified.
    Tony looked more apologetic than ever as he answered, but she thought she detected a twinkle in his eyes. “I see you have discovered my secret. Miss Corby. But if you will promise not to reveal it to any of the club’s members, I shall be happy to explain.”
    She nodded in agreement.
    “You will think me a worthless fellow, I know,” he went on, “but the truth is that I do not want to be obliged to parade to Salt Hill on certain days of the month dressed in a curious habit. I should find the requirement rather tedious.”
    Sophie dimpled by way of reply, but did not tell him that he had delighted her again. Instead, folding her hands in her lap, she looked about her with a sigh of satisfaction, as Tony grinned appreciatively.
    Presently she asked, “Where are you taking me?”
    “To Rotten Row,” was the reply.
    She looked at him in astonishment. “I thought you said you were taking me to the park!”
    Tony, who had taken a moment to understand her surprise, chuckled pleasantly. “I am taking you to the park, Miss Corby. I suppose the name does