"I say, Tom, you'll be too late for Wetheral!"
Tom Pynsent noticed his mother's exclamations by a sharp movement of the elbow, and remained till he had adjusted every thing with precision. He then shook his cousin's hand forcibly, and descended upon the steps of the door. "All's right, Spottiswoode."
The carriage was soon lost behind the knoll, which had been the subject of dispute.
The Mr. Tyndals appeared no more by the side of the carriage, and a long silence was broken by a remark from Mr. Spottiswoode.
"I wonder we see nothing of the Tyndals."
Miss Wycherly answered, half hesitating, "I believe I have offended Mr. Henry Tyndal."
"That is to be regretted," was Mr. Spottiswoode's reply, and a second silence ensued; the remainder of the drive was passed without a word on either side. Lady Spottiswoode urged Miss Wycherly to remain with them and dine; but Penelope's heart was too ill at ease to accept her hospitality. Her pallid countenance and hurried voice pleading excuses, spoke more powerfully than words could do, and her friends forbore to press her compliance. Mr. Spottiswoode still held the reins, and evinced no intention to quit the box. Miss Wycherly dared not meet his eye, as she thanked him for the trouble he had taken.
"You must not return thanks yet, for my task is not ended," replied Mr. Spottiswoode, "I shall drive you safely to Lidham."
"Pray—not for the world!" exclaimed Miss Wycherly, fixing her eyes upon her companion, in the energy of speaking; Mr. Spottiswoode's face wore a mild expression, and a smile quivered on his lip, but it fled at her exclamation, and his manner resumed its reserve. She remembered Julia's charge to be gentle; she remembered her cousin's charge to "pitch it in smoothly;" she saw also Mr. Henry Tyndal walking his horse in the distance.