"Oh, no; Tom liked me to chat my French, did you not, my love?"
"I liked you to make yourself happy," answered Tom, affectionately. "You made me happy, by getting such a nice healthy bloom."
A look of affection, and a pressure of the hand, attested his lady's gratitude and love, though she coloured through her rouge at her husband's remark.
"When we have lunched," continued Tom Pynsent, taking nearly half a pigeon-pie into his plate, "when we have just taken off the edge of hunger, we'll have a ride on horseback, Anny, and go over the old ground again. You must have an old habit here, somewhere; let us go and see our old love haunts."
Anna Maria was nothing loth; her matrimony was of only four or five months' standing, and they were lovers still. She was quite willing to take an agreeable ride with her dear Tom.
"Let us have the young one, too," exclaimed the good-natured Tom Pynsent; "habits and horses for two, and you shall see the world, missy."
"I shall want Bell," said Lady Wetheral, annoyed at the idea of a tête-à-tête with Mrs. Pynsent.
"Ay, Miss Bell, stay with us, I shall want a casting vote, and I shall want you to introduce me to Sir John's study," cried Mrs. Pynsent, giving Christobelle a thump upon her shoulder. "I must become acquainted with you, young lady."
Lady Wetheral's possession of manner concealed the disgust she endured at this movement. She turned to her eldest daughter, and inquired at what hour she would wish her horse equipped.
"Oh, my poor Lady Mary, let her be saddled at three, if you please. I think three o'clock, Tom, will do."