“I think, upon reflection,” he said, at length, “that we had better not attempt any of those great sights just now. To see either one of them well would be an exhausting day’s work; and we wish to be fresh for the Derby to-morrow. The Derby, my children! Come! we shall have time enough to see everything else afterwards. But we can only see the Derby to-morrow; so to-day, I think, we will just take a fly and drive around and leave some of our letters of introduction, with our present address. What do you say to that plan?”
As the plan was of the General’s devising, all agreed to it.
A fly was ordered, and the ladies retired to change their dresses for the drive.
Drusilla was the most expeditious with her toilet. She soon returned to the parlor fully equipped for her drive.
Little Lenny, in charge of his nurse, was standing within the recess of the front window, dancing with delight at something he saw outside. Drusilla heard a pair of shrill, cracked voices in apparent conflict below.
“Hee! hee! Doosil—hee!” shouted the child.
Drusilla approached, and witnessed for the first time the renowned Punch and Judy show.
While standing there and enjoying her child’s enjoyment, she saw a gentleman come forth apparently from a coffee-room below and start to cross Trafalgar Square; and with a half-suppressed cry she recognized—
Alexander Lyon.
She had been always looking for him—always expecting to see him since she first set foot in England, yet she had known that her looking was like the search for a needle in a hay-rick, and her expectations as extravagant in the first instance as they would be in the last.