“No,” agreed Sophy, her brow creased. “She could, however.”

“She could, but she won’t,” said Mr. Wychbold positively.

“We’ll see!” said Sophy. “At all events, I must and I will prevent her making those poor dears miserable! For that is what she does, I assure you! She is forever coming to Berkeley Square and casting everyone into the dumps! First it is my aunt, who goes to bed with a headache when she has had the creature with her for half an hour; then it is Miss Adderbury, to whom she says the horridest things in that odiously sweet voice she uses when she means to make mischief! She wonders that Miss Adderbury should not have taught the children to read Italian. She is surprised that she makes so little use of the backboard, and tells Charles that she fears little Amabel is growing to be round shouldered! Stuff! She is trying even to persuade him to take their monkey away from the children. But what is worse than all is that she sets him against poor Hubert! That I cannot forgive! She does it in such a shabby way, too! I do not know how I kept my hands from her ears yesterday, for the silly boy had on a new waistcoat — quite dreadful, but he was so proud of it — and what must she do but draw Charles’s attention to it, pretending to chaff Hubert, you know, but contriving to make it appear that he was forever buying new clothes and squandering away his allowance on fripperies!”

“What a devilish woman!” exclaimed Mr. Wychbold. “Must say I shouldn’t have expected Charles to take that kind of thing tamely! Never one to stand interference!”

“Oh, it is all done with such seeming solicitude that he doesn’t see what lies at the root of it — yet!” said Sophy.

“Very bad business,” said Mr. Wychbold. “Nothing to be done, though.”

“That,” said Sophy severely, “is what people always say when they are too lazy, or perhaps too timorous, to make a push to be helpful! I have a great many faults, but I am not lazy, and I am not timorous, though that, I know, is not a virtue, for I was born without any nerves at all, my father tells me, and almost no sensibility. I don’t know that I shall, for I have not yet made up my mind just what I should do, but I may need your assistance in breaking this foolish engagement.” She perceived, in a quick glance at his face, that he was looking extremely scared, and added reassuringly, “Very likely not, but one never knows, and it is always well to be prepared. Now I must put you down, for I see Cecilia awaiting me, and she had promised to let me drive her round the Park once she is assured I shan’t overturn the phaeton.”

“No fear of that!” said Mr. Wychbold, wondering what else this alarming young woman might overturn during her sojourn in Berkeley Square.

He shook hands, told her that if they would but allow females to belong to the Four-Horse Club he should certainly support her candidature, and sprang down from the phaeton, to exchange greetings with Cecilia, who, with Miss Adderbury and the children, were waiting beside the Drive. Gertrude, Amabel, and Theodore naturally asserted their claims to be taken up beside their cousin in preference to their elder sister, but after these had been firmly dealt with Mr. Wychbold helped Cecilia to mount into the carriage, bowed, and strolled off.

It had struck Sophy immediately that Cecilia was looking pale, while the little governess was plainly laboring under a considerable degree of suppressed agitation; so, since she believed in getting to the root of any matter without wasting time on circumlocution, she at once demanded bluntly, “Now, why are you looking as blue as megrim, Cecy?”

Tina, who, during Mr. Wychbold’s occupation of the passenger’s seat, had nestled inconspicuously behind her mistress’s feet, now crawled out from beneath the drab rug, and jumped on to Cecilia’s knee. Cecilia clasped her mechanically and stroked her, but said in a tense voice, “Eugenia!”

“Oh, the deuce take that creature!” exclaimed Sophy. “Now what has she done?”

“She was walking here with Alfred,” said Cecilia, “and she came upon us!”

“Well,” said Sophy reasonably, “I own I do not like her, and Alfred is certainly the horridest little beast in nature, but I see nothing in that to put you so much out of countenance! He cannot have tried to put his arm round your waist if his sister was present!”

“Oh, Alfred!” said Cecilia contemptuously. “Not but what he would have me take his arm, and then squeezed it in the most odious way, and ogled, and said all the sort of things that make one itch to slap his face. But I care nothing for him! You see, Sophy, Augustus was with me!”

“Well?” said Sophy.

“It is true that we had fallen a little way behind Addy, for how can one have any rational conversation with the children chattering all the time? But she was not out of sight, and we had not stolen down a lonely path — at least, it wasn’t one of the more frequented paths, but Addy was there all the time, so what could it signify? — and to say that I was meeting Augustus clandestinely is wickedly unjust! Anyone would suppose him to be some hateful adventurer, instead of someone I have known all my life, pretty well! Why shouldn’t he walk in the Park? And if he does so, and we meet, pray, why should I not talk to him?”

“No reason at all. Did that repellent girl give you a scold?”

“Not me so much as poor Addy. She is in despair, for Eugenia seems to have said she was betraying Mama’s trust and encouraging me in clandestine behavior. She was quite odious to me, but she could not say anything very much, because Augustus was with me. She made him walk with her instead and told Alfred to give me his arm, and I felt smirched, Sophy, smirched!”

“Anyone would, who was obliged to take Alfred’s arm,” agreed Sophy.

“Not that! But Eugenia’s manner! As though she had found me out in something disgraceful! And that is not the worst! Charles is driving here, and not a moment before you came up he went past us with Eugenia seated beside him. He gave me the coldest look! She has told him all about it, depend upon it, and now he will be furious with me, and very likely work upon Mama as well, and everything will be sp dreadful!”

“No, it won’t,” said Sophy coolly. “In fact, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if this turned out to be a very good thing. I cannot explain all that to you now, but I do beg of you, Cecy, not to be so distressed! There is no need. I assure you there is none! Very likely Charles will not say a word to you about this.”

Cecilia turned incredulous eyes toward her. “Charles not say a word? You don’t know him! He was looking like a thundercloud!”

“I daresay he was; he very often does, and you are such a goose that you instantly quake like a blancmanger,” replied Sophy. “Presently, I shall set you down, and you will join poor little Addy and continue your walk. I shall go home, where I am pretty sure to find your brother, for we have driven right round the Park now and seen no sign of him, and I know he will go back to Berkeley Square, for I heard him mention to my uncle that somebody called Eckington would be calling there at five o’clock.”

“Papa’s agent,” said Cecilia listlessly. “And I don’t see, dearest Sophy, what it signifies, whether you find Charles at home or not, because he won’t speak of this to you. Why should he?”

“Oh, won’t he just?” retorted Sophy. “Depend upon it, by this time he will have persuaded himself that everything has been my fault from start to finish! Besides, he is furious with me for having bought this turnout without his help, yes, and for having hired a stable of my own, too! He must be longing for me to come back to the house so that he can quarrel with me without fear of interruption. Poor man! I think I should put you down at once, Cecy.”

“How brave you are!” Cecilia said wonderingly. “I do not know how you can bear it!”

“What, your brother’s tantrums? I see nothing to be afraid of in them!”

Cecilia shuddered. “It is not being afraid precisely, but I dread people being angry and thundering at me! I cannot help it, Sophy, and I know it is poor spirited of me, but my knees shake so, and I feel quite sick!”

“Well, they shan’t be made to shake today,” said Sophy cheerfully. “I am going to spike Charles’s guns. Oh, see! There is Francis Wolvey! The very thing! He shall restore you to Addy for me.”

She drew up as she spoke, and Lord Francis, who had been chatting to two ladies in a landaulet, came up to the phaeton,

“Sophy, a capital turnout! ’Servant, Miss Rivenhall! I wonder to see you trust yourself to such a madcap, I do indeed! She overturned me in a gig once. A gig!”

“What an unhandsome thing to say!” said Sophy indignantly. “As though I could have helped it on such, a road. Grenada! Oh, dear, what a long time ago it seems, to be sure!

“I came up with Sir Horace, and stayed with Mrs. Scovell,” supplied Lord Francis. “She was the only lady living at Headquarters that winter and used to hold loo parties. Do you remember?”

“Of course I do! And more vividly still the fleas in that dreadful village! Francis, I must pick up John Potton and be off. Will you escort my cousin to meet her little brother and sisters? They were walking with their governess somewhere beside the Drive.”

Lord Francis, upon whom Cecilia’s beauty had made a great impression when he had met her on the occasion ofcalling in Berkeley Square, promptly said that nothing would give him more pleasure, and reached up his hands to help her down from the phaeton. He said that he hoped that they would not too speedily encounter the schoolroom party, and Cecilia, not impervious to his easy, friendly address, and evident admiration, began to look more cheerful.

Sophy, well satisfied saw them walk off together, and drove to where her groom awaited her by the Stanhope Gate. He reported that he had watched Mr. Rivenhall pass through it not many minutes earlier, and added, with a dry chuckle, that he looked to be on his high ropes still.

“Damned my impudence, Miss Sophy, and fair jobbed at the grays’ mouths!”

“Why, what had you said to enrage him?”

“All I said was you hadn’t never been broke to bridle, missie, and what with him being in agreement with me, and not able to say so, there was nothing for it but to damn me and drive off. I don’t blame him! Hot at hand, Miss Sophy, that’s what you are!”

Upon her arrival in Berkeley Square, Sophy found that Mr. Rivenhall had only just entered the house, having walked round from the mews. He was still wearing his caped driving coat, and had paused by the table in the hall to pick up and read a note that had been sent by one of his friends. He looked up frowningly as Dassett admitted Sophy, but he did not speak. Tina, who had developed (her mistress considered) an ill-judged passion for his society, frisked gaily up to him and employed every art known to her to attract his attention He did indeed glance down at her, but so far from encouraging her advances, said curtly, “Quiet!”

“Ah, so you are in before me!” remarked Sophy, pulling off her gloves. “Now, give me your candid opinion of those bays! Mr. Wychbold fancies you may have had an eye upon them yourself. Is that so?”

“Quite above my touch, Cousin!” he replied.

“No, really? I gave four hundred guineas for them, and think I have a bargain.”

“Were you serious when you gave me to understand that you have set up your own stable?” he demanded.

“Certainly I was serious. A pretty thing it would be if my aunt were obliged to bear the charge of my horses! Besides, I may very likely purchase two more, if I can find a couple to match the bays. I am told that it is all the crack to drive a phaeton and four, though I suppose that would mean altering the shafts, which would be a bore.”

“I have no control over your actions, Cousin,” he said coldly. “No doubt if it seems good to you to make a spectacle of yourself in the Park, you will do so. But you will not, if you please, take any of my sisters up beside you!”

“But it doesn’t please me,” she said. “I have already taken Cecilia for a turn round the Drive. You have very antiquated notions, have you not? I saw several excessively smart sporting carriages being driven by ladies of the highest ton!”

“I have no particular objection to a phaeton and pair,” he said still more coldly, “though a perch model is quite unsuited to a lady. You will forgive me if I tell you that there is something more than a little fast in such a style of carriage.”

“Now, who in the world can have been spiteful enough to have put that idea into your head?” wondered Sophy. He flushed, but did not answer.