"Oh! do you know I had quite forgotten my horse," exclaimed Margaret, "Uncle Grey!—There I have waked him at last."
"What is it, my love?" said Mr. Grey looking up.
"Miss Capel is so dismayed at having waked you," said Mr. Haveloc laughing.
"Oh! I was not asleep," said Mr. Grey rubbing his eyes, "I have been listening to all you have been saying."
Mr. Haveloc and Margaret exchanged smiles.
"Will you let me ride out to-morrow, dear uncle?"
"Yes, my love; you are quite sure of the horse, Claude. If somebody would go out first, just to try him; or if you have no engagement to-morrow, Claude, perhaps you would go with Margaret and Evans, just to see that all is right for the first time. Evans is a very steady man; afterwards I could trust him with comfort."
No one could mistake the delight that was visible on Mr. Haveloc's countenance at this proposition. He could not have asked to ride out with her, but here was a reason—a sufficient cause. "Nothing could give him more pleasure," he said, "he begged to know what time would suit Miss Capel, that he might be in the way."
Anybody but Mr. Grey would have noticed the impatience with which Mr. Haveloc looked forward to this ride: any one else would have been aware that it was some strong feeling that could make so ordinary an occurrence a matter of so much importance to him.