For some time they rode all together, and the conversation was partly general, mutual inquiries after healths and remarks upon the weather filling up the first two miles.
Then the captain and Mr. Fairfax got into a conversation upon the merits of Bengal cheroots as weighed against Manilas, and Leicester and Violet were left to their own devices.
In due course they reached Coombe Lodge.
"Now for the proof of Lady Ethel's courage," said Captain Murpoint. "Here is Lord Fitz," he added, as his lordship came round from the stables dressed in a light summer tweed, which set off his slight, boyish figure to advantage.
"Well, does Lady Ethel shrink from the ordeal?" said Leicester, as they shook hands.
"No," he said, "she is getting ready. My mother is in the drawing-room."
But while he spoke Lady Lackland came on to the steps, and, with her parasol raised, walked carefully toward them.
She shook hands most graciously with the captain, and insisted upon kissing Violet, which caress Violet met with her usual gentle smile and blush. Indeed, her ladyship was gracious to the whole party, even including Mr. Fairfax, who modestly kept in the background until the other salutations were made—his frank, handsome face rather overshadowed by the knowledge that he was not a welcome sight to the countess.
Ethel appeared the next moment, and welcomed the party with grace and gentleness, and after the usual gossip, the captain helped her to mount.
"Are—a—all ready?" said Lord Fitz.