“My ‘proud neighbors’ well know that whom Sybil Berners protects with her friendship is peer with the proudest among them!” she said, with a hauteur not to be surpassed by the haughtiest in the Old Dominion.
“Well said, my little wife! And now, as this matter is decided, I must see about taking additional places in the stage-coach. How many will be wanted? What retinue has this foreign princess in distress,” inquired Lyon, rather sarcastically.
“There will be three places required, for the lady, child and nurse.”
“Whe-ew! My dear Sybil, we are collecting a ready made family! Does the child squall? or the nurse drink?” inquired Lyon, with a laugh, as without waiting for a reply he rang the bell, and gave the order for three more places to be taken inside the Staunton coach for the morning.
And soon after this the young pair retired to rest.
Very early the next morning Sybil Berners came out of her chamber, looking fresh and bright as the new day itself. She wore a close-fitting travelling dress of crimson merino, that well became her elegant little figure and rich, dark complexion.
She glanced around the room to see that everything was in order. Yes; the fire was bright, the hearth clean, the breakfast-table neatly set, and the morning sun shining through the red-curtained windows and glancing upon the silver tea-service.
With a smile of satisfaction, she tossed back her raven-black ringlets, and passed from the room and through the hall, and rapped at the door of her new acquaintance.
Mrs. Blondelle herself opened it, and stood there quite ready to accompany her friend to breakfast.
Radiantly beautiful looked the fair young stranger this morning, in the dark, bright-blue cloth habit that so highly enhanced the dazzling splendor of her blooming complexion and the golden glory of her hair.