remounted to his place, the carriage drove on, and Theodora
impetuously walked along the avenue.

'That man is insufferable! Extremely like Mrs. Martindale! Servants'
gossip! How could I go and ask him? John has perfectly spoilt a good
servant in him! But John spoils everybody. The notion of that girl
sending him on her messages! John, who is treated like something sacred
by my father and mother themselves! Those damp Rickworth meadows! How
could Arthur allow it? It would serve him right if he was to marry Emma
Brandon after all!'

She would not go near her mother, lest she should give her aunt the
pleasure of hearing where he was gone; but as she was coming down,
dressed for dinner, she met her father in the hall, uneasily asking a
servant whether Mr. Martindale was come.

'Arthur's wife has sent him with a message to Rickworth,' she said.

'John? You don't mean it. You have not seen him?'

'No; he went round that way, and sent Brown home. He said he should be
here by dinner-time, but it is very late. Is it not a strange proceeding
of hers, to be sending him about the country!'

'I don't understand it. Where's Brown?'

'Here's a fly coming up the avenue. He is come at last.'

Lord Martindale hastened down the steps; Theodora came no further than
the door, in so irritated a state that she did not like John's cheerful
alacrity of step and greeting. 'She is up to-day, she is getting
better,' were the first words she heard. 'Well, Theodora, how are you?'
and he kissed her with more warmth than she returned.

'Did I hear you had been to Rickworth?' said his father.

'Yes; I sent word by Brown. Poor Violet is still so weak that she cannot
write, and the Brandons have been anxious about her; so she asked me to
let them know how she was, if I had the opportunity, and I came round
that way. I wanted to know when they go to London; for though Arthur is
as attentive as possible, I don't think Violet is in a condition to be
left entirely to him. When do you go?'

'Not till the end of May--just before the drawing-room,' said Lord
Martindale.

'I go back when they can take the boy to church. Is my mother in the
drawing-room? I'll just speak to her, and dress--it is late I see.'

'How well he seems,' said Lord Martindale, as John walked quickly on
before.

'There was a cough,' said Theodora.

'Yes; but so cheerful. I have not seen him so animated for years. He
must be better!'

His mother was full of delight. 'My