“Then I’ll go with you, for I have not quite finished packing. Well, my lord,” she added, turning cheerily to him and giving him her hand, “I trust you will spend the coming week pleasantly, and then we shall expect to see you again.”
“Thanks. Shall I have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Richards then? Will he have returned by that time?” the young man asked.
“Yes; he returns next week,” Mrs. Richards answered, a new idea striking her.
Probably he wished to consult formally with her husband before proposing to Josephine; the English, she knew, were very punctilious regarding such matters.
Yes, she was confident, now she thought of it, that was why he had not come to the point to-night.
So, after a few more cordially spoken regrets, good wishes, and so forth, they left him and sought their rooms.
Lord Carrol turned and went out into the grounds again, his face grown very grave and thoughtful.
“I never would have believed it. I do not understand it at all,” he muttered to himself.
But what he did not understand or could not believe, the future must develop.
The next morning Mrs. Richards and her daughter left for Yonkers, and the same afternoon Lord Carrol was en route for New York city.