They stood on the steps while some of the elder persons of the party went off; and when George Gage's carriage drew up, Harriet came forward.
"I will drive Miss Capel, Mr. Gage;" she said, "for she has not a great deal of courage, and I shall be less likely than you to put it to the test."
"Surely not—surely you are not afraid of my driving;" said Mr. Gage, bending down to the level of Margaret's bonnet. "I had promised myself so great a pleasure, and you cannot doubt my caution on such an occasion."
"You are very good," said Margaret, "but really—those horses—"
"Come, come!" said Harriet, "give me the reins, I shall not be trying to show off as you would. Do be good-natured George, and let me drive; you can easily find a horse."
While she spoke, Margaret was struck with the alteration in Mr. Gage's countenance. Her chance was quite over with him, poor little girl; though she was entirely ignorant of ever having had any. He looked delighted, handed in Harriet and Margaret with the greatest care, and stood on the step arranging everything for Harriet's convenience.
"Why, I thought," he said, "you had given up all these bad habits. Will you like another pair of horses? You had better drive a four-in-hand, now you are about it."
"No," said Harriet, "I wish to go quietly for the sake of my little friend here; so let every one get out of my way, and will you tell Charles to send my groom on with my horse?"
As she spoke, she touched the horses, and swept out of the gates. She was silent for a short time, and then said as with a sigh, as if to herself, "Bless me, I called him George."