Just then Pierre came to the rescue, and said something to her in his own language, whereupon she turned swiftly to Mr. Beresford and said:
“You received my telegram? You will bury him straight from here?”
“Yes,” he answered, “and I believe every thing is ready. Shall I take you to your carriage?”
“Yes, yes! Oh, do!” she replied, and placing her hat on her head again, she took his arm, and Anna always insisted that she held her skirts back as with the air of a grand duchess, she walked past them to the carriage, the door of which the coachman held open with as much respect as if she had been a queen.
Reinette must have guessed the intention of her new relatives to ride with her, for she said, rapidly and low, to Mr. Beresford:
“You go with me, of course, and Pierre; he loved father; he is nearer to me now than any one in the wide world.”
“Why, yes; only I think your relatives—your grandmother will naturally expect to accompany you,” Mr. Beresford answered, and Reinette said quickly:
“My relatives! my grandmother! Mr. Beresford, father said I was to ask you everything. Are they my grandmother? Tell me true.”
Mr. Beresford could not repress a smile at the way she put the question, in her vehemence, but he answered her very low and cautiously, as the Ferguson party was close behind:
“I think they are.”