"What, Frederic? Why, he used to own a very fast horse and go out driving in Lincoln Park at home nearly every day."
"He told me he had been frightened when a boy by a horse, and had never cared for horseflesh since."
"That is not true, Robert. How queer that he should tell such a falsehood. Do you suppose he did it just to get out of driving me?"
"I don't know what to think, Mrs. Vernon. On the whole, I think your nephew is a very peculiar young man."
"It's too bad." Mrs. Vernon gave a deep sigh. "And he is the only near relative I have!"
Fearful that the drive would do the lady small good if they continued to talk about Frederic Vernon, Robert changed the subject, and so skillfully did he manage it that presently Mrs. Vernon grew quite cheerful. Down along the river they stopped for a few minutes, and the boy picked a bunch of wild flowers and presented them to his companion.
At length they left the river road and took to that running up along the cliffs previously mentioned. This road was but little used, but its wildness was attractive to both Mrs. Vernon and the youth, for from the upper heights they could see for many miles around.
"I would not mind owning a summer home up here," said Mrs. Vernon, as they halted at the highest point in the road. "See how beautiful the Thames looks, winding along through the meadows and woods below us."
"It is nice," answered Robert. "But as for a summer home, I rather think I would prefer one in the United States."
The lady smiled.