Any one can tell by your looks when the wrong horse
wins that you've got a stake on.'
``Aunt and nephew had supper alone that night, or at least
they would have if Bertie hadn't joined them; all the
Brimley Bomefields had headaches.
``The aunt carried them all off to Dieppe the next day and
set cheerily about the task of winning back some of her
losses. Her luck was variable; in fact, she had some fair
streaks of good fortune, just enough to keep her thoroughly
amused with her new distraction; but on the whole she was a
loser. The Brimley Bomefields had a collective attack of
nervous prostration on the day when she sold out a quantity
of shares in Argentine rails. `Nothing will ever bring that
money back,' they remarked lugubriously to one another.
``Veronique at last could bear it no longer, and went
home; you see, it had been her idea to bring the aunt on
this disastrous expedition, and though the others did not
cast the fact verbally in her face, there was a certain
lurking reproach in their eyes which was harder to meet than
actual upbraidings. The other two remained behind,
forlornly mounting guard over their aunt until such time as
the waning of the Dieppe season should at last turn her in
the direction of home and safety.
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