"Well, Andrew?" She gave him a careless hand to kiss, but smiled sweetly up at her husband. "My headache is so much better," she told him, "and they said that Andrew was come to see you. So I came downstairs." She turned eagerly to her brother. "Tell me, Andrew, is Tracy at home?"
"Lord, yes! He arrived yesterday, devil take him! Do you want him?"
"Oh, yes," she nodded. "I want to see him again. I've not set eyes on him for an age. I want you to take me back with you."
"Surely, my dear, 'tis a trifle late in the day for such a drive?" demurred Richard, trying to conceal his annoyance. "Can you not wait until to-morrow?"
"Faith, you'll have to, Lavvy, for I'll not take you to-day, that's certain. I'm riding to Fletcher's when I leave here. Tracy can visit you to-morrow an he chooses."
"Will he?" she asked doubtfully.
Andrew clapped his hand to his vest pocket. "If I had not forgot!" he exclaimed. "I've a letter from him for you. He intends waiting on you to-morrow, in any case. Lord, what it is to have a scatter brain like mine!" He pulled a handful of papers from his pocket and selected one, sealed, and addressed in a sloping Italian handwriting.
Lavinia pounced upon it joyfully, and tore it open. Andrew restored the rest of the documents to his pocket with yet another rueful laugh.
"Duns, Richard! Duns!"
"Give them to me," answered the other, holding out his hand.