It was one of those typical May days, when Nature puts on her daintiest and fairest apparel, when the fresh young green of the foliage seems to feast and rest the eyes.
The air was sweet with lilac and may; and the tender blue of the sky was unstained by a single cloud. When Mollie came downstairs, in her pretty grey dress, with a little spray of pink may at her throat, Althea thought that she matched the day itself.
"Mollie has quite recovered her looks," she said to Doreen; "the dear child is a great beauty, and Gwen will be charmed with her." And, indeed, as they drove through there were many admiring glances cast at the pretty, blushing face.
Moritz was at the station to meet them. He had a white flower in his buttonhole, and looked jubilant and excited. Perhaps he was a trifle fussy in his attentions. Mollie must take his arm, he said; the station was so crowded, and there were a lot of rough people about.
Poor Mollie felt a little nervous and conscious. It was difficult to adapt her slow, lurching walk to Monsieur Blackie's quick, springy tread. Moritz might be as tender over her infirmity as a mother over some cripple child; but Mollie, who was only human, could have wept over her own awkwardness. Perhaps her limping gait had never given her more acute pain than now, when Ingram was trying so carefully and labouriously to adapt his step to hers.
Mollie's cheeks were burning by the time they reached their compartment; but when Moritz sat down beside her with a fond look and word, she forgot her uneasiness, and was her own happy self again.
The journey was a short one. When they reached Brentwood, Moritz hurried his party through the little country station before the stationmaster had an opportunity of accosting him.
An open barouche with a fine pair of bays was awaiting them. When Waveney admired them, Moritz remarked rather complacently that Ralston was a good judge of horse-flesh. And then he asked Mollie how she would like to drive herself in a low pony-carriage with a pair of cream-coloured ponies. And Mollie, thinking that he was joking, clapped her hands gleefully.
"How delicious that would be!" she returned. "But it is very naughty of you to tantalise me in this fashion. Oh, what a dear old village!" she went on. "And, Moritz, the people seem to know you." For Moritz was lifting his hat every instant in response to some greeting.
"Oh, they are always civil to people who are staying at the Hall," returned Ingram, evasively. But at that moment he met Althea's amused glance. "Very well done, my lord," she said, under her breath; and then she shook her head at him.