“To go out driving with Dolph, anything!”
“No, don’t be provoking! Do, pray, tell me!”
“I will rather tell my poor brother how he is betrayed! The hair-brown pelisse, you goose, and the hat with the gold feathers!”
Lord Dolphinton arrived punctually in Berkeley Square, but Kitty’s hopes of inducing him to explain his mother’s odd conduct seemed likely to be blighted by the presence of a wooden-faced groom, who stood perched up behind them, well able to hear every word that was spoken. Indeed, when she ventured to suggest to Dolphinton that he was out of spirits, he shot a scared look at her, and followed this up by a series of grimaces which she correctly interpreted to be intended to convey a warning. She at once began to talk of trivialities, taking a great interest in everything about her, and trying to hit upon some means of detaching him from his guardian angel. It was a bright, day, and a week of such spring-like weather had caused many buds to open. A glimpse of a path leading between flower-beds provided Kitty with the excuse she needed. She cried out in delight, and said: “Primroses! Oh, how pretty! How much I should like to explore that path!”
The hint failed. Lord Dolphinton shook his head. “Not a carriage-way,” he said.
“No, but do, pray, stop for a minute, Dolph! Would you object to it if I were to run back, just to walk a very little way down the path?”
“No,” said his lordship, drawing his pair to a standstill. “Can’t see why you want to look at primroses, but I don’t object. I won’t keep the bays standing more than ten minutes, though. Not disobliging, but won’t do that. Bad for them.”
The groom, who had jumped down from the phaeton, and stood waiting to assist Miss Charing to alight, gave a discreet cough, and said, touching his cockaded hat: “I could walk the horses, my lord, if you should wish to accompany Miss.”
“Oh, yes!” instantly said Kitty, “Pray allow him to do so, Dolph! I would dearly love to walk for a little while in this beautiful park!”
Dolphinton appeared to be much struck by this suggestion. He said, with the first sign of animation he had shown that day: “That’s what I’ll do! That’s a good notion. You think it’s a good notion, don’t you, Kitty? Females don’t walk alone in London. Finglass shall walk the horses, and I’ll go with you.”