But the young adventurers had sufficient time to speculate upon their “fate,” and to make up their minds whether this journey of theirs was really a fortnight’s visit to Richmond, or a solemn expedition into the world, as they drove along the pleasant summer roads on their way to the Willows. They had leisure enough, but they had not inclination; they were somewhat excited, but not at all solemnised. They thought of the unknown paradise to which they were going--of their beautiful patroness and her guests; but they never paused to inquire, as they bowled pleasantly along under the elms and chestnuts, anything at all about their fate. “How grave every one looked,” said Marian. “What are all the people afraid of? for I am sure Miss Willsie wanted us to go, though she was so cross; and poor Harry Oswald, how he looked last night!” At this recollection Marian smiled. To tell the truth, she was at present only amused by the gradual perception dawning upon her of the unfortunate circumstances of these young gentlemen. She might never have found it out had she known only Harry Oswald; but Sir Langham Portland threw light upon the subject which Marian had scarcely guessed at before. Do you think she was grateful on that account to the handsome Guardsman? Marian’s sweet face brightened all over with amused half-blushing smiles. It was impossible to tell. “But, Marian,” said Agnes, “I want to be particular about one thing. We must not deceive any one. Nobody must suppose we are great ladies. If anything _should_ happen of any importance, we must be sure to tell who we are.” “That you are the author of _Hope Hazlewood_,” said Marian, somewhat provokingly. “Oh! Mrs Edgerley will tell everybody that; and as for me, I am only your sister--nobody will mind me.”