She put her arm round his neck and kissed him.
“No, dear; Bessie and I are going alone. Don’t be anxious; I am getting quite strong again now. Tell James to drive round the park.”
The squire wrapped the shawls round her tenderly, and the brougham drove off.
Olivia leaned back with her eyes closed for some minutes, but when the lodge had been left behind she sat up with a new life and eagerness in her eyes.
“Tell him now to drive to the jail,” she said.
Bessie gave the order, and the coachman, after a moment or two of inert astonishment, turned the horses’ heads.
The brougham pulled up at the prison, and Olivia made ready to get out.
“Shan’t I ask the colonel to come to you, miss?” asked Bessie, who was white with anxiety.
Olivia shook her head.
“No,” she said. “It would be easier for him to refuse while I am sitting here; it will be more difficult—oh, I will make it impossible for him to do so, once I am inside his office,” and her voice seemed suddenly to have got back something of its old ring and firmness.