“Certainly.”
“And do all the folk know as we are coming?”
Sir Charles laughed. “Most likely. Gossip is not dead at Huntercombe, I dare say.”
Nurse's black eyes flashed. “All the village will be out. I hope he will see us ride in, the black-hearted villain!”
Sir Charles was too proud to let her draw him into that topic; he went about his business.
Lady Bassett's carriage, duly packed, came round, and Lady Bassett was ready soon afterward; so was Mrs. Millar; so was baby, imbedded now in a nest of lawn and lace and white fur. They had to wait for nurse. Lady Bassett explained sotto voce to her husband, “Just at the last moment she was seized with a desire to wear a silk gown I gave her. I argued with her, but she only pouted. I was afraid for baby. It is very hard upon you, dear.”
Her face and voice were so piteous that Sir Charles burst out laughing.
“We must take the bitter along with the sweet. Don't you think the sweet rather predominates at present?”
Lady Bassett explored his face with all her eyes. “My darling is happy now; trifles cannot put him out.”
“I doubt if anything could shake me while I have you and our child. As for that jade keeping us all waiting while she dons silk attire, it is simply delicious. I wish Rolfe was here, that is all. Ha! ha! ha!”