"Is Miss Wetheral gone?" asked Tom Pynsent, in a tone of disappointment. "I want a hat, and I'll take this opportunity of riding to Shrewsbury. Any thing I can do for you, Lady Wetheral?"
"I have given Julia a commission, thank you. Anna Maria did not join the party. She is not very well this morning."
Tom Pynsent had risen to depart; he now reseated himself.
"Oh, if you have no commission to give me, I shall not ride so far; I can get a hat any time. I hope Miss Wetheral is not confined to her room."
"My daughter is not well, Mr. Pynsent. She looks much, very much improved by her exercise on horseback, and I am complimented upon her brilliant complexion and spirits, but I am not easy about her. I hope her fine complexion betrays no seeds of consumption; her spirits are not the spirits of health, I much fear."
"Good God! you don't think so!" cried Tom Pynsent, in alarm. "I thought Miss Wetheral never looked better than she has done for some weeks past."
Lady Wetheral shook her head.
"There is something not quite right, and I was wishing to see you, to observe that perhaps riding-exercise was too violent for her constitution. I think I must advise her to drive out in the phaeton, and try its effect; but many thanks are due to you, my dear Mr. Pynsent, for your kind and regular attendance upon my daughter. I have often heard her express much gratitude towards you."
"I shall be very happy, I am sure, to drive Miss Wetheral in any open carriage," remarked Tom, perfectly obtuse to the aim and end of his companion's purpose. "I can drive her to very many pleasant views."