"After all," said Horace, "I shouldn't care a straw to run the chance, as far as I am concerned. I dare say the horses will go home straight enough, if he'll only let them: or if he wouldn't, I shouldn't mind knocking him off the box at once—by accident; but Frank here is rather particular, and I promised him I would not let Hurst drive. I thought once, if we had dined by ourselves, of persuading him he was drunk, and sending him home in a fly; but I am afraid, as matters stand, that plea is hardly practicable."
"Could I persuade him to let you or Mr Hawthorne drive, do you think?"
Horace looked at her as if he thought, as I dare say he did, that his cousin Flora could, if she were so minded, persuade a man to do any thing; so I was compelled, somewhat at the expense of my reputation for gallantry, to assure them both, that if Ulysses of old, among his various arts and accomplishments, had piqued himself upon his tandem-driving, his vanity would have stopped his ears effectually, and the Syren might have sung herself hoarse before he would have given up the reins.
"I'll give the boots half-a-crown to steal his hat," said Horace, "and start while he is looking for it."
"Stay," said his cousin; "I dare say it may be managed." But I thought she looked disappointed. "Did you know we were all going to the B——theatre to-night?"
"No! really! what fun?"
"No fun for you; for you must start early, as you said just now. The owners of the horses here patronise a play, and they have made papa promise to go, and so we must, I suppose, and"——
"Oh! we'll all go, of course," said Horace, decidedly.—"You'll stay and go, won't you, Hawthorne?"
"You forget your supper party," said I.
"Oh! hang it, they'll take care of themselves, so long as the supper's there; they wont miss me much."