"You are ill," observed Julia Wetheral, who had seated herself near Miss Wycherly: "it must be something extraordinary which could overpower you, Penelope. You must have felt fatigue in mind and body with those gay horses."
Miss Wycherly endeavoured to form a playful reply, but a flood of tears burst forth.
"Say nothing to me, now, Julia—let me be perfectly silent for a quarter of an hour, and I shall recover."
Every one returned to their former seats, except Julia, who remained silently at Miss Wycherly's side, and the company again resumed their interrupted conversation. Mrs. Pynsent had her private thoughts respecting her niece's sudden illness, which she whispered to Lady Ennismore.
"Pen is never ill, and never tired with driving—she would drive six-in-hand, and laugh at it. I hope Pen hasn't taken a fancy to Tom: my sister Hancock never could bear the idea of cousins marrying."
Lady Ennismore smiled graciously.—"You are more acute, Mrs. Pynsent, than myself: you have, no doubt, excellent reasons for your suppositions."
"Lord, I never suppose any thing, Lady Ennismore, or see any thing till it's all over; only Pen's illness, just now, looks queer. If it was not about Tom, I can't imagine the cause of Pen's bit of a faint, just when she was to congratulate him upon his engagement! I am sure Pen never would faint about a trifle; and, as to her driving, it's all my eye: my brother Bill put her upon the coach-box as soon as she could walk."
"Perhaps it is mental agitation of another kind," softly remarked Lady Ennismore.
"Pooh, pooh!—Pen has no mental agitation, Lady Ennismore. What should ail her to faint about any thing, if it wasn't Tom's marriage? My sister Hancock had always a horror of their marrying, only I thought nothing about it.—How was I to fancy Pen liked Tom, when she was always with Charles Spottiswoode?"