“What is that very wicked thing that Lady Janet has just told you?” said Lady Kilgoff, as she advanced to mount her horse.
“It was à propos of the handkerchief. She said 'Probably you were going to throw yours at Mr. Cashel,'—I'm sure I don't know why.”
Fortunately none but Lady Kilgoff and Cashel heard this speech, but both blushed deeply.
While this was enacting below, Olivia, who marked every gesture and every look eagerly, could not hear what passed. She could only see the respectful attention bestowed by Cashel on every wish of his fair guest; how, having seated her, he draped in graceful folds the long velvet habit, in which, and with a white hat and drooping feather, she resembled one of the court of Louis Quinze.
At last she turned her horse's head, and rode him slowly along before the house, evidently timid and afraid of the high-mettled animal. Cashel, however, walked at his head, and so they stood, while he arranged the curb-chain, exactly beneath the window where Olivia was standing.
She opened the sash noiselessly, and, bending down, listened.
“I assure you,” said Lady Kilgoff, “I 'll not continue my ride if you don't come. I have no confidence in these fine gentlemen cavaliers; and as for Miss Meek, she 'd risk her life to see me run away with.”
“I pledge myself to follow in ten minutes,—nay, in five, if possible. I told Mr. Kennyfeck I should make my obeisances to the ladies to-day.”
“Would to-morrow not serve?” said she, smiling.
“I believe it might—but a promise! Besides, I have been sadly deficient in attentions there.”