"You will ride over with Mr. Livingston, Clarice," she announced. "He wouldn't trust the twins with his team."
"And who's Mr. Livingston, Hope," inquired Mrs. Van Rensselaer, adjusting her veil carefully before the small mirror. "I didn't suppose you had a Mr. anybody up here in this terrible country! Why the prefix?"
"He's a white man," replied the girl, pulling down her hat to hide the flush that crept into her face. "An Englishman, Edward Livingston."
"An Englishman," mused Clarice, pulling on her gloves. "But what makes you Mister him, Hope? Livingston—wonder if he's any relation to Lord Livingston? Edward Livingston, did you say?"
"Oh, such a nice man!" exclaimed Louisa, clasping her hands in rapture. "He is my goot, kind friend."
"And Hope's too, isn't he?" laughed Mrs. Van Rensselaer, at which remark Hope advised her to hurry up.
"But my dear, I am hurrying just as fast as I can," she exclaimed. "I assure you I am as anxious to get away from here as you are to have me. I don't see how you've ever stood it, Hope! The attraction must be very strong. Come, own up, is it this Mister Livingston? Why, I believe you are blushing. You're so black, though, I can't be certain. But it's a good name—Livingston. Come on; I'm ready to see this Mister Edward Livingston!"
The three passed out of the room and through the large living room beyond, on out of doors. The men had eaten their supper and gone out to the stables, where they congregated in numerous groups—quiet groups, that any other time would have seemed suspicious to Hope.
Mrs. Van Rensselaer was led safely past the pigs and dogs without accident, but at the corner of the house she drew back, filled with surprise, and forgetful of all danger.
"Hope, I do believe that is Lord Livingston," she whispered. "I knew he was out in this country somewhere. Yes, I'm sure it is he. His wife lives in New York now," she rattled on; "but I don't know her except by sight. She goes in kind of a swift set, anyway, but he belongs to one of the best families in England. Isn't it surprising to run across him like this? I'll go up to him and say—why, how do you do, Lord——"