Before the Rector could answer, or Isaac extricate his hair from the unconsciously mischievous little hands which had seized upon it by Grace’s connivance, there came a gay party of equestrians round the corner of the road. Charlotte Pain, with the two young ladies, her guests; Lady Sarah and Miss Grame, who sometimes hired horses for a ride; and three or four gentlemen. Amongst the latter were George Godolphin and Lord Averil. Lord Averil had met them accidentally and joined their party. He was riding by the side of Charlotte Pain.
“I say, Grace!” hastily exclaimed Isaac, twitching away his head, “take that baby in, out of sight. Look there!”
“Take my baby in!” resentfully spoke Grace. “What for? I am not ashamed to be seen holding it. Keeping only two servants, I must turn nurse sometimes: and people know it. I am not situated as Maria is, with a dozen at her beck and call.”
Isaac did not prolong the discussion. He thought if he owned an ugly baby with no hair, he should not be so fond of showing it off. Grace stood her ground, and the baby stood his, and lifted its head and its arms by way of greeting. Isaac wondered that it did not lift its voice as well.
The party exchanged bows as they rode past. George Godolphin—he was riding by the side of Sarah Anne Grame—withdrew his horse from the throng and rode up.
“How are you, Grace? How is the baby?”
“Look at him,” returned Grace in answer, holding the gentleman up to him.
“Shall I take him for a ride?” asked George, laughing.
“Not if you paid me his value in gold,” answered Grace bluntly.
George’s gay blue eyes twinkled. “What may that value be? Your estimation of it, Grace?”