And Mowbray descended, followed by the triumphant Hoffland, who, whatever his motive might be, seemed to rejoice in the accident, or the success of his ruse, whichever the reader pleases.
"Come! I am just going to see Warner Lewis a moment," said Mowbray, "and then I shall return to the 'Raleigh Tavern,' get my horse, and go to Roseland——"
"Roseland! Is that your sister's home?"
"Yes, we live there—no one but Lucy and myself; that is to say, except one single servant reserved from the estate."
"Roseville?" murmured Hoffland; "I think I have passed it."
"Very probably; it is just yonder, beyond the woods—a cottage embosomed in trees, and with myriads of roses around it, which Lucy takes great pleasure in cultivating."
"I think I should like to know your sister," said Hoffland.
"Why, nothing is easier: come with me this evening."
"This evening?"
"Why not?"