Rhoda had walked away.
“But I shall not!” answered Phoebe, softly.
“Deary me, child!” said Betty, turning to look at her, “don’t you go for to fret over that. Why, if a bit of a thing like that’ll trouble you, you’ll have plenty to fret about at White-Ladies. Mrs Rhoda, she’s on and off with you twenty times a day; and you’d best take no notice. She don’t mean anything ill, my dear; ’tis only her phantasies.”
“Oh, Mrs Betty! I wish—”
“Phoebe!” came up from below. “Fetch my cloak and hood, and bring your own—quick, now! We are about to drive out with Madam.”
“Come, dry your eyes, child, and I’ll fetch the things,” said Betty, soothingly. “You’ll be the better of a drive.”
Rhoda’s annoyance seemed to have vanished from her mind as well as from her countenance; and Madam took no notice of Phoebe’s disturbed looks. The Maidens’ Lodge, was first visited, and a messenger sent in to ask Lady Betty if she were inclined to take the air. Lady Betty accepted the offer, and was so considerate as not to keep Madam wailing more than ten minutes. No further invitation was offered, and the coach rumbled away in the direction of Gloucester.
For a time Phoebe heard little of the conversation between the elder ladies, and Rhoda, as usual in her grandmother’s presence, was almost silent. At length she woke up to a remark made by Lady Betty.
“Then you think, Madam, to send for Gatty and Molly?”
“That is my design, my Lady Betty. ’Twill be a diversion for Rhoda; and Sir Richard was so good as to say they should come if I would.”