How beautiful, how proud, how thoroughbred were the restive creatures champing at their silver bits, impatient of the little groom's restraint—how exquisite the costly little phaeton with its luxurious cushions of azure satin, and the azure satin carriage-robe thickly embroidered with white lilies. The equipage was dainty enough for Queen Mab herself. Ada sighed as she thought of the beautiful form that had chosen the rest of the coffin rather than these downy cushions to recline upon.
"It is beautiful," she said, "rarely beautiful. Yes, I will ride with you in the park, Lance. Wait a minute until I get on my wrappings, for I believe it is a little chilly to-day."
She tripped away lightly. Lance looked after her with an affectionate glance.
"A dear, sweet girl," he thought to himself; "surely Mrs. Vance misunderstands her, for I am sure she is true and sweet and kind. How like she grows to Lily."
She came back presently, cloaked and heavily veiled.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Not quite," she answered. "I had forgotten to put my bouquets into the vases."
She tripped around and disposed of her flowers in the various vases that adorned the room, then came back to him.
"Now, I am ready," said she.
They went out, took their places in the dainty phaeton, the little groom in blue and silver sprang into his place, and they were whirled swiftly away.