It was a beautiful afternoon, in the first week of August, and the two ladies set off as usual for their afternoon's drive, the little Louisa seated between them. Mr. de Burgh had been on the steps to see the party start, himself lifting the child with his usual tenderness into the carriage—and wishing them a pleasant drive, he casually inquired in what direction they meant to go.
"To Morland, I think," answered Mrs. de Burgh carelessly, as she gathered up the reins, and arranged herself upon her seat.
"To Morland," he repeated.
"Yes! have you any objection?"
"Oh, none whatever!"
"Well, good bye!" and with a light touch of the whip, the pretty ponies were put in motion.
Ere they had proceeded far through the park Mrs. de Burgh said, laughing:
"I told him we were going to Morland, but that is not at all my intention. You need not say anything about it, but I have made up my mind to drive you to Montrevor. Really I ought to go and see old Uncle Trevor after his illness; at any rate, I must speak to Eugene, and make personal inquiries."
"But why tell Louis that you were going to Morland? Oh, Olivia! do not drive there to-day," Mary exclaimed in some consternation.
"Why not," inquired Mrs. de Burgh, looking at her companion in surprise: "you really do not mean to say that I ought to submit to the absurd objection Louis expressed the other night upon the subject?"