“But you see I don’t know how to do it,” said Lucy.
“As regards the horse, you will learn in two days, and I do hope you will try. Don’t you think it will be an excellent thing for her, Mrs. Robarts?”
“Lucy has got no habit,” said Mrs. Robarts, making use of the excuse common on all such occasions.
“There is one of Justinia’s in the house, I know. She always leaves one here, in order that she may be able to ride when she comes.”
“She would not think of taking such a liberty with Lady Meredith’s things,” said Fanny, almost frightened at the proposal.
“Of course it is out of the question, Fanny,” said Lucy, now speaking rather seriously. “In the first place, I would not take Lord Lufton’s horse; in the second place, I would not take Lady Meredith’s habit; in the third place, I should be a great deal too much frightened; and, lastly, it is quite out of the question for a great many other very good reasons.”
“Nonsense,” said Lord Lufton.
“A great deal of nonsense,” said Lucy, laughing, “but all of it of Lord Lufton’s talking. But we are getting cold—are we not, Fanny?—so we will wish you good-night.” And then the two ladies shook hands with him, and walked on towards the parsonage.
That which astonished Mrs. Robarts the most in all this was the perfectly collected manner in which Lucy spoke and conducted herself. This connected, as she could not but connect it, with the air of chagrin with which Lord Lufton received Lucy’s decision, made it manifest to Mrs. Robarts that Lord Lufton was annoyed because Lucy would not consent to learn to ride; whereas she, Lucy herself, had given her refusal in a firm and decided tone, as though resolved that nothing more should be said about it.
They walked on in silence for a minute or two, till they reached the parsonage gate, and then Lucy said, laughing, “Can’t you fancy me sitting on that great big horse? I wonder what Lady Lufton would say if she saw me there, and his lordship giving me my first lesson?”