Vladimir’s horses growing impatient, young Berwick jumped in after Kate, and off they set. Next drew up a pretty waggonette, belonging to Mr. Chepstow. Into it, without hesitation, stepped Miss Vyse and Dora Bailey, followed by the little Frenchman, De l’Orme. But where was the fourth? In some unaccountable manner this being, whoever he was, had disappeared. No one but Mr. Price stood waiting to ascend. An angry toss of the head from Florence, an impatient order to the driver, and they drove off quickly. Rather lose the chance of the companion she had hoped for than, by longer delay, run the risk of Mr. Price’s uninteresting society! Lotty and Sybil were beginning to think themselves forgotten, poor children, when a familiar voice sounded at the door. “Now Lotty, now Sybil old woman, the carriage is coming round, for you. Ah! Miss Freer, too!” Ralph added, as he saw her. “I beg your pardon; I thought you were to have been picked up on the road with Mrs. Archer. But, never mind, we shall pack in.” As they passed through the court-yard there stood Mr. Price, looking somewhat disconsolate, not quite sure that he had done right in quitting his seat by the side of his pupil, which, yet, his shrinking modesty would not have allowed him to retain, unless all the rest of the company had been already provided for. “You, too, still here, Price!” exclaimed Sir Ralph. “I thought you had been whisked off in the waggonette. However, it’s all the better! If Miss Freer does not mind a little crowding, that’s to say?” Miss Freer, in her sensible brown-holland, being happily careless of crushing or squeezing, the whole party was soon comfortably established in the roomy carriage. Sybil’s little face wore an expression of perfect content. Lotty, having obtained her uncle’s consent to sit beside the driver, was no less well pleased. Her incipient airs of fine ladyism forgotten for the time, she became the hearty, happy child nature meant her still to be, chattering to the coachman in her broken French, and translating his replies for the benefit of the less accomplished Sybil. Both children really were their very nicest selves that day; and nice children are by no means a bad addition to a party of pleasure. For one thing, they are pretty sure to enjoy it, which is more than can be said or their elders. What a merry drive they had! Marion hardly recognized the silent, melancholy Mr. Price in the agreeable, humourous man beside her. Sir Ralph and he amused her with reminiscences of their younger days, from time to time saddened by a passing allusion to the brother she had already heard of. The “John” so affectionately mentioned by Sir Ralph when speaking to Mrs. Archer.