“So I do; and the new horse, as you call him, shall carry me there to-morrow. Will you say that I’ll be over about twelve o’clock?”
“You had better say earlier, as he is always out about the parish.”
“Very well, say eleven. It is parish business about which I am going, so it need not irk his conscience to stay in for me.”
“Well, Lucy, we must drive ourselves, that’s all. You shall be charioteer going, and then we’ll change coming back.” To all which Lucy agreed, and as soon as their work in the school was over they started.
Not a word had been spoken between them about Lord Lufton since that evening, now more than a month ago, on which they had been walking together in the garden. Lucy had so demeaned herself on that occasion as to make her sister-in-law quite sure that there had been no love passages up to that time; and nothing had since occurred which had created any suspicion in Mrs. Robarts’ mind. She had seen at once that all the close intimacy between them was over, and thought that everything was as it should be.
“Do you know, I have an idea,” she said in the pony-carriage that day, “that Lord Lufton will marry Griselda Grantly.” Lucy could not refrain from giving a little check at the reins which she was holding, and she felt that the blood rushed quickly to her heart. But she did not betray herself. “Perhaps he may,” she said, and then gave the pony a little touch with her whip.
“Oh, Lucy, I won’t have Puck beaten. He was going very nicely.”
“I beg Puck’s pardon. But you see when one is trusted with a whip one feels such a longing to use it.”
“Oh, but you should keep it still. I feel almost certain that Lady Lufton would like such a match.”
“I daresay she might. Miss Grantly will have a large fortune, I believe.”