“Why not to-day—now?” he said. “I'll send him over to your house and have your saddle put on him.”
Before Honora could protest Mrs. Chandos came forward.
“It's awfully sweet of you, Trixy, to offer to send me to Fanny's, but Warry says he will drive me over. Good-by, my dear,” she added, holding out her hand to Honora.
“I hope you enjoy your ride.”
Mr. Trowbridge's phaeton was brought up, Brent helped Mrs. Chandos in, and stood for a moment gazing after her. Amusement was still in his eyes as he turned to Honora.
“Poor Lula!” he said. “Most women could have done it better than that—couldn't they?”
“I think you were horrid to her,” exclaimed Honora, indignantly. “It wouldn't have hurt you to drive her to Mrs. Darlington's.”
It did not occur to her that her rebuke implied a familiarity at which they had swiftly but imperceptibly arrived.
“Oh, yes, it would hurt me,” said he. “I'd rather spend a day in jail than drive with Lula in that frame of mind. Tender reproaches, and all that sort of thing, you know although I can't believe you ever indulge in them. Don't,” he added.
In spite of the fact that she was up in arms for her sex, Honora smiled.