"What shall we do?" said she. "Oh, how I wish we had never come."
"It was all my fault," I answered: "but I don't see how to help it now; we cannot find our way home alone, through this great town, especially as it is growing dark. If Mrs. Thorpe wanted us, she would send for us."
"True!" said Amabel. "She knows where we are, and could send Timothy for us."
She had done so, we found afterwards, but we were not told of it.
"We must do as my lady bids us, till we can get away; but Lucy! I do not like her, nor this place."
"Nor I!" I answered. "I feel as if we had got into the hands of the fairy Melusene, that Mother Prudentia told us of. I have not seen one person who seemed real to me, except that nice Mrs. Bunnell—and Mr. Cheriton."
My lady returned at this moment, so we had no chance for any further conversation. We went with her to the play; I don't remember what it was, and indeed, there was such a buzz of conversation, and the lights and music so bewildered me, and gave me such a headache, that I had much ado not to burst out crying. I was thankful enough when the evening concluded.
Captain Lovelace had been in the box all the evening, and had full possession of her ladyship's ear and attention. I fancy from words that I caught, that there was some political intelligence going among them. I saw that many of the ladies wore white ribbons, and other red; while a few seemed to have tried to make a compromise between the two.
"What ails you, child?" said my lady somewhat sharply, as the play being at last concluded, she had time to notice me. "You are as white as a ghost."
"Lucy has a bad headache, madame!" said Amabel, seeing that I was trying in vain to speak.