Lady Mary, sad to say, received this statement with the utmost incredulity, and mentally arraigned her own offspring of duplicity; but whether Jim or Blanche was the traitor she could not determine. Could she but have peeped over Sylla Chipchase's shoulder as that laughter-loving damsel read Pansey Cottrell's note, she would have been both enlightened and astonished.
"DEAR MISS SYLLA," it ran, "I cannot recollect the name of the French song that you told me would just suit Mrs. Wriothesley. Please send it me. We are all going over to-morrow to lunch at Trotbury; some on horseback, and some upon wheels. You should join the riding party if you can, as it will be doubtless pleasant; and though I am not empowered to say so, Lady Mary will of course be delighted to see you."
"Song!" muttered Miss Sylla, as she read this note, "I never said anything to him about a French song; but, ah—stop—I think I see it now!" and she ran through the note again, and as she finished it, broke into a merry laugh. "What a dear, clever, mischievous old man he is!" she muttered. "Of course he means that I am to join that riding party and make Lady Mary a little uncomfortable. Well, she really does deserve it. How dare she pretend that I am setting my cap at Lionel? Such a designing matron deserves some slight punishment, and she little knows what Mr. Cottrell and I can do when we combine together to avenge ourselves."
When she descended to the breakfast-room, Sylla found no difficulty in persuading her cousin Laura to go for a ride. It was of course easy to suggest Trotbury. Then it was agreed they might as well look in at the Grange on the way, to see if they could persuade any of the party there to join them in such an expedition; and thus Sylla Chipchase successfully carried out Mr. Cottrell's design, without making mention to any one of the note that she had received from him.
The merry party were soon started. The Misses Evesham, Mrs. Sartoris, and Pansey Cottrell in the carriage—the reduced number of those electing to travel on wheels sparing the latter the indignity of the "break"—the remainder were of course upon horseback; and as Lady Mary looked after them, admiring the firm seat of her daughter sitting squarely and well back in her saddle, she wondered whether the "Suffolk chit," as she persistently termed her, could ride.
"That's a very good-looking one you are riding, Miss Bloxam, and up to a stone or two more than your weight, as a lady's horse always should be."
"I don't know about that," replied Blanche, laughing. "I am tall, and by no means of the thread-paper order. King Cole," she continued. leaning forward to pat the glossy neck of her black favourite, "would probably tell you he found me quite enough on his back, could he be consulted. He is as good, too, as he is handsome, as I shall perhaps have an opportunity of showing you to-day."
"How so?" inquired Beauchamp.
"Well, we very often on these excursions to Trotbury ride there quietly, and then lark home. There is a lovely piece of galloping ground over Tapton Downs, and a charming cut across country this side of it, by which we can save nearly a mile."
"That'll be great fun," replied Beauchamp, "and I advocate strongly such a saving of distance on our homeward journey. This is one of your father's hunters I am riding, is it not?"