riends. They had been brought up together from childhood, and had been together at many a dance and tennis party and many a clinking run with the hounds. Nothing had ever passed between them, but it was a tacit understanding that Fielden and May Haredale would wait for one another.
When the crash came and Fielden disappeared, May had made no sign, but from that time she was more sedate and seemed to have left her old life and spirits behind her.
"I had not forgotten you," she murmured presently. "We must try to do something for you, Harry. I will speak to father. And then there is Mr. Copley. He has a fine establishment near us and one of the largest racing stables in the kingdom. But you don't know him. He is a South African millionaire who has come into our neighbourhood since your time."
"Oh, I have met some of them," Fielden said grimly. "They don't think so much of them out there as folk do at home. I fancy I know the name. I wonder if it is the same Copley I met on the Rand--but, no
Spelling out the plot points for the reader over and over, this is a suspenseful romance dealing with horse-racing. Not particularly well written, but diverting nevertheless.
A profligate heir returns from South Africa where, instead of making his fortune in the diamond fields, he did so badly he returned to the old, closed up manor house (the estate having been sold off long before) to pick up a few things he'd overlooked when he left so abruptly. His ex-girlfriend's father is indebted to the scoundrel who ruined the hero's chances in S.A. to the point where he's willing to marry his daughter off to him if that will save the estate next door. Neither the bad guy nor his henchman are S.A. millionaires, but they are impersonating them so as to live well on credit until their fiendish horse-racing swindle matures, at which time they will indeed be rich.
As the heroine remarks more than once, this type of melodrama is not found outside of novels.