CHAPTER XII.
BEELZEBUB'S COLOURS.
The first race was over when Elsie and Blake reached the course. What could they have been talking about during that homeward ride, to make them linger so long? She had a bunch of wild jasmine in her bodice, which he had gathered for her, and she had promised him more dances than she could remember.
Lady Horace looked distressed. "Oh, Elsie, don't flirt with that man," she whispered to her sister, repeating the former frightened adjuration. "I know that it will bring you harm. Don't make poor Frank unhappy."
"You seem to think a great deal more of Frank's happiness, or unhappiness, than you do of mine, Ina," said Elsie poutingly. "It's enough to make Horace jealous."
Lady Horace flushed deeply. "Don't say that; don't ever say that," she exclaimed. "You have no right to say such a thing."
"Horace is jealous, is he?" exclaimed Elsie. "Well, that's better at any rate than being sulky over his dinner, or running after that horrid Mrs. Allanby."
Lord Horace, however, certainly showed no signs of jealousy. He was in very high spirits, for he had won his first bet, and he had tacked himself to pretty Mrs. Allanby, who was delighted to have a chance of revenging herself on Elsie and her belongings. Blake avoided Elsie for the rest of the day.
The girl wondered why, and showed that she did not care, by flirting extravagantly with every man who came near her. She gave Frank Hallett no opportunity for a tête-à,-tête, and made Dominic Trant radiant by accepting his very pronounced attentions, with every sign of pleasure. It was Dominic Trant who sat next her at luncheon, and who mounted her again when luncheon was over. Dominic Trant was in high feather, for he had won two races, and expected to win several more.
