When her ladyship arrived at Hatton, Sir John Spottiswoode and Christobelle were in the drawing-room. She entered with graceful composure, and in excellent spirits.
"My dear Bell, I come with increased pleasure, knowing I am to run away with you. Sir John Spottiswoode, how do you do? Drawing, both of you, I see. Sir John's sketches must be your models, my love. I hope to be favoured with a sight of those sketches during your promised visit at Wetheral, my dear sir."
"I was giving Miss Wetheral a few hints on perspective."
"How very kind! My dear Bell, I hope you do credit to your instructor. I hurried here rather earlier than I generally drive out, in the hope of seeing Anna Maria for a few minutes. My Sir John assures me it is a lovely infant. I am happy she is doing so well; no fever, I hear; quite well, and with an appetite."
A polite and playful conversation was kept up between her ladyship and Sir John Spottiswoode, till Mrs. Pynsent appeared. She entered the room with the short, sharp step which always marked her dislike to the visitor.
"So you are come at last, my Lady Wetheral? A fortnight is a long time to keep away from one's flesh and blood!"
Lady Wetheral appeared perfectly collected, and unconscious of Mrs. Pynsent's rebuke. She bowed with polite good-humour.
"I trust I shall find my daughter awake. I long to be introduced to my grandson—my first grandson, Mrs. Pynsent, for I have not yet seen Isabel's boy."
"I would not have let a fortnight pass without seeing my grandson at Brierly," replied Mrs. Pynsent.
"My dear daughter can perhaps receive me now," said Lady Wetheral, rising. "I am anxious to see her."