Mrs Harrington turned away with the consciousness of having done a disagreeable thing in a disagreeable manner. She had fully determined upon not taking Amy, it would only crowd the carriage; and she did not wish it to be considered a necessary thing, that where her daughters went, her niece should go too; but a note, which she had that morning received from Lord Rochford, expressly mentioning Amy, and adding a hope that Mrs Herbert would be prevailed on to comply with Lady Rochford's wishes, and join the party, left her no choice; and it was happy for Amy that she did not know how very little her aunt desired her presence.
Mrs Harrington's note enclosed Lady Rochford's invitation, which Mrs Herbert decided at once it would be better not to accept for herself; but she did not object to Amy's going, though she feared that if Emmerton in its quietness, and almost solemnity, excited her longings after riches and grandeur, Rochford Park would probably have a still greater effect. Yet, even if this were the case, she trusted that she should be able to check the feeling; and she knew that the same temptations were nearly certain to arise in after-years, when she would not be at hand to put Amy on her guard against them.
Amy's delight was unmeasured. Her aunt's harsh looks, and Miss Cunningham's disagreeable manners, were quite forgotten in the pleasure she anticipated in going to a new place; and long before her usual hour of rising she had been to the window several times to see if the weather promised to be fine. The calm, gray mist of the morning was hardly what she would have desired; but there was a joyousness in her own spirit which made almost everything appear bright, and when at length the sun broke slowly through its veil of clouds, shedding a clear line of light over the distant hills, and then bursting forth in full radiance over the richly-wooded country, and the cheerful village, Amy's heart bounded within her, and again, as she recollected her feelings of envy on her return from Emmerton, she sighed to think that she should have been so ungrateful as to wish for anything beyond the enjoyments which God had given her.
Punctuality was one of the virtues which Mrs Harrington strictly enforced; and Amy almost trembled when she heard the clock strike eleven as she rode up to the lodge. She knew also, that on this point her mamma and aunt entirely agreed; and she had received many injunctions on no account to delay on the road, and so be the means of keeping the carriage waiting—and to have vexed her mother would have been even worse than to have excited Mrs Harrington's anger. Happily, however, there were some last orders to be given, which caused a delay of about five minutes, and Amy had time to dismount, and join her cousins in the schoolroom, before her aunt appeared.
She seemed more inclined to be kind than before; and Amy felt so much reassured by her change of manner, that, although placed in the middle of the back seat, between Dora and Margaret, and having Mrs Harrington's face nearly opposite, she contrived to be extremely happy. It was only necessary to be quite still and silent, to avoid giving offence; and this to her was no punishment.
From being so much alone, she had learned the secret of amusing herself with her own thoughts, and found them far more agreeable than the effort of talking in a constrained way to her cousins. Dora and Margaret willingly followed her example; the former from being rather in a sulky mood, and the latter from finding her attempts at conversation useless. The drive was consequently a quiet, but not a dull one; and the distance appeared very short to Amy, though Dora had yawned at least four times, and at last muttered that she could never think Miss Cunningham was worth coming so far to see.
"I cannot say I want very much to see her either," replied Amy; "only the place,—I would give anything to see that."
"Then look," said Dora, pointing to a long white building on the nearest hill, "there it is, just to your right."
Amy looked eagerly, and fancied she saw something very grand, though only the general outline could be discovered; but as she came nearer, still keeping her eyes fixed upon it, she was quite satisfied that it must be what it had been described—the most splendid nobleman's seat in the county. "Oh!" she exclaimed, jumping up in the carriage; "it is, yes, it really is more beautiful than Emmerton."
"Sit still, pray," said Dora; "you nearly trod upon my foot."