"My dear St. Aubyn, they told me you were gone out."
"No, my love," said St. Aubyn, a little surprized at the hasty manner in which she spoke; "but I am going out soon."
"Shall you take the barouche or the chariot?"
"Neither; I shall walk to Sir Edward Leicester's: but why; are you going out?"
"Yes—by and bye; I think a little air will do me good."
"Had you not better keep quiet? You know my aunt particularly requested you would do so; she will be here soon: do not go till you have seen her, nor then unless she advises it."
"But I assure you, my Lord, I am perfectly well, and I am sure a little air will be of service."
"Well, do as you please," said St. Aubyn, a little surprized at her adhering so determinately to her idea of going out; for, in general, half a word from him guided her; "but you will not go alone?"
"Oh—no, Laura will go with me."
"Very well, my love; don't fatigue yourself. Where are you going?"