“Oh, very well, but it seems rather tame! However, it is quite your own affair. Piers will be waiting for you with a post-chaise-and-four. You will leap up into it, and the horses will spring forward, and you will fly for the Border! I can see it all!” declared Pen, her eyes sparkling.
Lydia seemed to catch a little of her enthusiasm. “To be sure, it does sound romantic,” she admitted. “Only it is a great way to the Border, and everyone would be so cross with us!”
“Once you were married that wouldn’t signify.”
“No. No, it wouldn’t, would it? But I don’t think Piers has any money.”
“Oh!” Pen’s face fell. “That certainly makes it rather awkward. But I daresay we shall contrive something.”
Lydia said: “Well, if you don’t mind, I would prefer not to go to Gretna, because although it would be romantic I can’t help thinking it would be very uncomfortable. Besides, I couldn’t have any attendants, or a wedding-dress, or a lace veil, or anything.”
“Don’t chatter!” said Pen. “I am thinking.”
Lydia was obediently silent.
“We must soften your father’s heart!” declared Pen at length.
Lydia looked doubtful. “Yes, I should like that of all things, but how?”