"And he will do as you wish about London, you may be sure," continued Margaret, who, in her extreme anxiety, could not avoid recurring to the subject, even at the risk of again exciting Miss Cunningham's vehemence.
"I have told you a hundred and fifty times before," was the reply, "that my lessons are quite different from everything else; you do not think I have been so silly as not to try all I could about it long before this."
"But you will stay over New Year's day," said Margaret, coaxingly: "if we try hard we may be able to manage something together."
The notion seemed rather plausible, and Miss Cunningham condescended to say that she would see about it; perhaps she might, if she were not plagued any more with the school-girls.
"They will be gone soon," said Margaret; "and if you would come with me now, you might get quite out of their way, and not speak to them again."
"Where are you going, then?" asked Lucy.
"I wished very much to walk to our old steward's cottage. He has had a pony training for me some time, just like Dora's. I want to see it, and mamma always scolds us if we go out of the grounds alone; but she will not mind if you are with me."
Miss Cunningham walked to the window to look at the weather, which certainly, but for the cold, would have been very inviting, although the melting of the ice and snow rendered the walks in some places dirty and disagreeable.
"My pony is much more beautiful than Dora's," said Lucy, "and much larger too. I wonder she likes riding such a little thing. Is yours the same size, Margaret?"
"I do not know exactly; but do come and see it, it is not very far. I don't think Dora will be able to get to the other side of the lake, as she wished, and if so, we shall have the girls back again in a minute."