"Poor devil!" said Leroy to himself as he went up the drive, "I must get
Jasper to do something for him, especially if he wins--I only hope he
doesn't get drunk!"
In the courtyard Lady Constance's horse and his own were waiting for him
and in a few moments the girl herself appeared, accompanied by the
ever-smiling Jasper Vermont.
Blessed by nature with a good figure, Art, as represented by French
modistes and Redfern, had put the finishing touches, with the result
that Lady Constance Tremaine, whether in evening dress or the blue cloth
riding-habit of the field, was a joy to the eye. As she stood now,
waiting Adrien's approach, he could not help mentally contrasting her
natural, spiritual type of beauty with the made-up and coarsened charms
of Ada Lester, and he wondered how he could have been so blind as not to
notice it before.
He was not the only one who admired her. Jasper Vermont had elected
himself as the girl's chief slave, and whenever he was at Barminster
Castle invariably managed to carry out her lightest whims--indeed, would
even endeavour to forestall them. Now it was he who attended to her
saddle, and helped her into it before Adrien had fully realised what he
was about to do; and for once Leroy experienced just the least feeling
of resentment towards his devoted friend.
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