Lady Racial slightly dimpled her cheek, for courtesy's sake, and then looked gravely on the ground.

This was no promise; it was even an indication (as the Countess read her), of something beyond suspicion in the lady's mind; but it was a sign of delicacy, and a sign that her feelings had been touched, from which a truce might be reckoned on, and no betrayal feared.
She heard it said that the match was for honour and glory.

A match of two days' duration under a broiling sun, all for honour and glory! Was it not enough to make her despise the games of men?
For something better she played.

Her game was for one hundred thousand pounds, the happiness of her brother, and the concealment of a horror.

To win a game like that was worth the trouble.