“Perhaps.”
She laughed. “Oh, no, no! I have no belief in perhaps. Take Cecilia!”
“Cecilia would by far rather go in my mother’s landaulet. You may take the reins for part of the way.”
She said in a rallying tone, “This is something indeed! I am overcome, Charles, and fear you cannot be feeling quite the thing!”
“It will be a delightful expedition,” said Miss Wraxton brightly. “I am almost tempted, dear Lady Ombersley, to beg a place in your carriage!”
Lady Ombersley was too well bred to betray consternation, but she said a little doubtfully, “Well, my dear, of course — if Sophy does not think that there might be rather too many of us for the Marquesa! I should not wish to put her out in any way.”
“Not at all!” Sophy replied instantly. “It is not in your power to put Sancia out, dearest Aunt Lizzie! She will not bestir herself in the least, but will leave everything to her major-domo. Her is a Frenchman, and will be delighted to make arrangements for even so small a party as ours. I have only to write Sancia a letter, beg a frank from my uncle, and the thing is done — if only she will rouse herself sufficiently to convey my message to Gaston.
“How interesting it will be to meet a real Spanish lady!” remarked Miss Wraxton.
“For all the world as if Sancia had been a giraffe!” as Sophy afterward said to Cecilia.
“I wish I had known you meant to accompany my mother!” Mr. Rivenhall said, when he presently escorted Miss Wraxton to her carriage. “I should have offered you a place in my curricle. I cannot cry off now, but it is a bore. I should not have said I would go had I not heard that Talgarth was to be of the party. God knows I don’t care a jot whom my cousin marries, but I suppose, in the circumstances, we owe it to my uncle not to encourage that connection!”