“I can hazard a guess at all events! It has not yet been my fate to travel with a child afflicted with carriage-sickness, I thank God!”

“Oh, it quite wrings my heart to think of that sweet little boy being sick, for there is nothing more miserable!” broke in Miss Farlow. “Not that I am myself a bad traveller, for I daresay I could drive from one end of the country to the other without experiencing the least discomfort, but I well remember how ill my particular friend, Miss Aston, always felt, even in hackney carriages. She is dead now, poor dear soul, though not in a hackney carriage, of course.”

Judging from her brother’s expression that he was on the brink of delivering himself of a hasty snub, Miss Wychwood intervened, to suggest to her garrulous companion that if she had finished her breakfast she should go to talk to Mrs Wardlow about the arrangements to be made for Lady Wychwood, her children, her nurse, her dresser, and the nurse’s maid. Miss Farlow expressed the utmost willingness to do so, and instantly plunged into a minute description of the plans she had already formulated. Miss Wychwood checked her by saying: “Later, Maria, if you please! Domestic details are not interesting to Geoffrey!”

“No, indeed! Gentlemen never take any interest in them, do they? My own dear father was always used to say—”

She was interrupted by the impetuous entrance of Lucilla, so they never learned what the late Mr Farlow was always used to say. Lucilla was full of apologies for being so late. “I can’t think how I came to oversleep, except that I wasn’t called! Oh, how do you do, Sir Geoffrey! My maid told me you arrived in the middle of the party: were you too tired to join it? I wish you might have done so, for it was a truly splendid party, wasn’t it, ma’am?”

Miss Wychwood laughed, told her to pull the bell for a fresh pot of tea, and said that she had given orders she was not to be disturbed. “Indeed, I meant to have your breakfast carried up to you as soon as you woke,” she said.

“Oh, yes, Brigham told me so, but I am not in the least fagged, and I can’t bear having my breakfast in bed! The crumbs get into it, and the tea gets spilt over the sheet. Besides, I am to ride my mare this morning, and how dreadful it would be if I were late! Did my uncle tell you when he means to bring the horses round, ma’am?”

“No,” replied Miss Wychwood, aware that Sir Geoffrey had stiffened alarmingly. “To own the truth, I had forgotten we were to ride out today. I have had other things to think of. My sister-in-law is bringing her children to stay with me, and I am not very sure when they will arrive.”

“Oh!” Lucilla said blankly. “I didn’t know. Does it mean that you can’t go with us? Pray don’t cry off, ma’am!”

His evil genius prompted Sir Geoffrey to utter unwise words. “My dear young lady,” he said kindly, “you must not expect my sister to jaunter off on an expedition of pleasure, leaving no one to receive Lady Wychwood!”

“No. Of course not,” Lucilla agreed politely, but in a disappointed tone.

Now, Miss Wychwood had decided, many hours before, not to ride out in Mr Carleton’s company, not even to see him. She had had the intention of charging Lucilla with a formal message of regret. That, she thought, would teach him a salutary lesson. But no sooner had Sir Geoffrey spoken than her hackles rose, and she said: “As to that, Mrs Wardlow will be only too happy to receive Amabel, and to be granted an opportunity to dote on the children, besides discussing with Amabel all the nursery details which they both find so absorbing, and in which I take no interest.” She rose as she spoke, saying: “I must go and tell Miss Farlow what I wish her to do for me this morning.”

“You will ride with us?” Lucilla cried eagerly.

Miss Wychwood nodded smilingly, and left the room. She was almost immediately followed by Sir Geoffrey, who caught her up as she was about to mount the stairs. “Annis!” he said commandingly.

She paused, and looked over her shoulder at him. “Well, Geoffrey?”

“Come into the library! I can’t talk to you here!”

“There is no need for you to talk to me anywhere. I know what you wish to say, and I have no time to waste in listening to it”

“Annis, I must insist—”

“Good God, will you never learn wisdom?” she exclaimed.

“Wisdom! I have more of that than you, I promise you!” he said angrily. “I will not stand by and watch my sister compromising herself!”

“Doing what?”she gasped, taken-aback. “Don’t be such a dummy, Geoffrey! Compromise myself indeed! By going for a morning’s ride with Lucilla, her uncle, and Ninian Elmore? You must have windmills in your head!”

She began to go upstairs, but he halted her, stretching up an arm to grasp her wrist. “Wait!” he ordered. “I warned you to have nothing to do with Carleton, but so far from paying any heed you have positively encouraged him to pursue you! He has dined here, and you have even dined with him at his hotel—and in a private parlour! I had not thought it possible you could behave with such impropriety! Ah, you wonder, I daresay, how I should know that!”

“I know exactly how you know it,” she said, with a disdainful curl of her lip. “I don’t doubt Maria has kept you informed of everything I do! That is why you are here today, and why you have bullocked Amabel into coming to keep an eye on me! Before you accuse me of impropriety, I recommend you to consider your own conduct! I can conceive of few more improper things than to have permitted Maria to report to you on my actions, and few things more addlebrained than to have believed them when anyone but a gudgeon must have realized that they sprang from the jealousy of a very stupid woman!”

She wrenched herself free from his hold on her wrist, and went swiftly upstairs, only pausing when he said weakly that Maria had only done what she thought to be her duty, to say dangerously: “I would remind you, brother, that it is I who am Maria’s employer, not you! I will add that I keep no disloyal servants in my house!”

Five minutes later she was giving Miss Farlow precise instructions about the shopping she wished her to undertake. As these included a command to obtain from Mrs Wardlow a list of the various items of infant diet which would be needed, Miss Farlow showed signs of taking umbrage, and said, bridling, that she fancied she was quite as well qualified as the housekeeper to decide what were the best things to give children to eat.

“Please do as you are told!” said Miss Wychwood coldly. “You need not trouble yourself to prepare the necessary bedchambers: Mrs Wardlow and my sister will settle that between them. Now, if there is anything you wish to know that I’ve not told you, pray tell me what it is immediately! I am going out, and shall be away all the morning.”

“Going out?” exclaimed Miss Farlow incredulously. “You cannot mean that you are going on this riding expedition when dear Lady Wychwood may arrive at any moment!”

If anything had been needed to strengthen Miss Wychwood’s resolve, that tactless speech supplied the necessary goad. She said: “Certainly I mean it.”

“Oh, I am persuaded Sir Geoffrey won’t permit it! Dear Miss Annis—” She broke off, quailing before the fiery glance cast at her.

“Let me advise you, cousin, not to meddle in what in no way concerns you!” said Miss Wychwood. “You have worn my patience very thin already! I shall have a good deal to say to you later, but I’ve no time now to waste. Will you be kind enough to send Jurby up to me?”

Considerably alarmed by this unprecedented severity, Miss Farlow became flustered, and plunged into an incoherent speech, partly apologetic, partly self-exculpatory, but she did not get very far with it, for Lucilla came running up the stairs, to inform Miss Wychwood that Mr Carleton’s groom had just called with a message from his master: if it was convenient to the ladies, he would bring the horses to Camden Place at eleven o’clock.

“So I said it was convenient! That was right, wasn’t it?”

“Quite right but we shall have to make haste into our riding-habits.”

Miss Farlow uttered a sound between a hen-like cluck and a moan, and wrung her hands together, which had the effect of making Annis turn on her, and to say, in an exasperated voice: “Maria, will you have the goodness to send Jurby to me at once? Pray don’t make it necessary for me to ask you a third time!”

Miss Farlow scuttled away. Lucilla, wide-eyed with surprise, asked: “Are you vexed with her, ma’am? I never heard you speak so crossly to her before!”

“Yes, I am a trifle vexed: she is the most tiresome creature! Her tongue has been running on wheels ever since we sat down to breakfast. But never mind that! Run and change your dress!”

Lucilla, having assured her that she could scramble into her habit in the twinkling of a bedpost, darted off to her own chamber, and if (thanks to Brigham) she did not actually scramble into her habit she was ready before her hostess. By the time Miss Wychwood came downstairs, Mr Carleton and Ninian had arrived, and Lucilla was cooing over a very pretty gray mare, patting and stroking her, and feeding her with sugar-lumps. Ninian, who had borrowed a well ribbed-up hack from one of his new acquaintances, was pointing out all the mare’s good points to her; and Mr Carleton, who had dismounted from his chestnut, was holding his own and Miss Wychwood’s bridles, and when Miss Wychwood came out of the house he handed both to his groom, making it plain that he meant to put her up into the saddle himself. She went forward, greeting him with a good deal of reserve, and without her usual delightful smile. He took her hand, and surprised her by saying quietly: “Don’t look so sternly at me! Did I offend you very much last night?”