Esmeralda said that she would be delighted, and the old man looked round with a pleased smile.
“I feel extraordinarily well and strong to-day,” he said; and he chatted to her all through lunch, taking the greatest interest in the dishes that were brought to her, and nibbling his toast, and sipping his beef tea contentedly, as he watched her dispose of a hearty meal; for Esmeralda had not learned to be ashamed of her appetite.
The pony-phaeton was brought round after lunch. There was only room for two, and a small groom behind; and Esmeralda begged to be allowed to drive.
“You will be quite safe, sir,” said Trafford, who, with the two ladies and Lord Selvaine, saw them off.
“I will trust myself with Miss Chetwynde anywhere,” said his grace, gallantly. Though it was a warm afternoon, he was wrapped up in furs, as if it were winter, and he leaned back in the easy carriage with an air of pride and enjoyment in his strength and his companion which caused Lord Selvaine to smile.
“A case of ‘I came, I saw, I conquered!’” he said, blandly. “I never saw a man so hopelessly in love! If the duke were, say, ten years younger, I wouldn’t give much for your chances, my dear Traff.”
Trafford smiled at the jest, and looked after the carriage thoughtfully.
The duke was delighted with Esmeralda’s driving.
“You must have a pony-carriage and pair, my dear,” he said, as if he were speaking of a box of hairpins. “I will tell Trafford to get them at once. This is too old and shabby for you; it does very well for me, but it is not smart enough for you.”
“Oh, no, no!” said Esmeralda. “It is quite good enough. Do not buy a new one.”