"That arrangement will do, boys. Tom, just shew Miss Wetheral the new picture in the study before she goes, and Charley, Miss Wycherly's groom will ride your horse. I shall tell Bill Wycherly he ought to send the coachman with Pen, not a groom-fellow." Lord Farnborough and his daughter rose to take leave. It appeared to Miss Wycherly's jealous eye, that Lady Anna spoke laughingly to Mr. Spottiswoode upon the subject of his new vocation, but she could not catch the words, or his reply: Lady Anna made her a passing bow as she joined Lord Farnborough, and they were gone when she passively sunk upon a sofa by Julia's side, exhausted with her efforts. "Julia, this day decides my destiny--I am weaker than a child." Mr. Henry Tyndal approached them to express his regret at Miss Wycherly's fatigue: she closed her eyes, and turned from him in disgust, abruptly exclaiming-- "I wish to be quiet and alone, Mr. Tyndal." "I am glad you are not going to drive back," persevered Henry Tyndal; "I dare say Spottiswoode will drive you very well; he is a very fair hand at the ribbons. I'm sure I would drive you with the greatest pleasure in the world, Miss Wycherly, but I am not a dab at driving. I am glad, however, I shall be riding by your carriage: you will ride inside, of course: I hope--I beg you will ride inside." Miss Wycherly looked daggers at the man with whom she had been so intimate for many days, and whom she had allowed to be constantly in attendance. "I require no one's opinion, Mr. Tyndal, to regulate my actions, and I shall be obliged by your removing from before me." "I am afraid Miss Wycherly is very ill," said Henry Tyndal, looking inquisitively at Julia. "What can we do for her, Miss Wetheral?" "Do, for Heaven's sake, leave me!" cried Miss Wycherly, losing all patience at his including himself in her arrangements; "I will not be annoyed by your obstinate stupidity." "Stupidity, Miss Wetheral! Now what can Miss Wycherly mean by stupidity, when I am so fearful about her driving home?" Julia saw her friend's complexion reviving, and her eye lighting up with a thousand fires: in another moment, a torrent must overwhelm the unfortunate Henry Tyndal; but, as if to prove his utter blindness, he placed his own foot upon the precipice by offering to take her hand. Miss Wycherly felt the extent of her imprudence, in suffering the attendance of a man whom she never intended to marry, by its effects; but reason, at that moment, did not inform her impatient spirit that the fault was hers alone. All suggestions of reason were overpowered by anger, for Charles Spottiswoode's eyes were upon her, and he had witnessed the action. Miss Wycherly pushed Henry Tyndal's hand away, and rose from her seat, as she replied, with great impetuosity, "If you ever presume to approach me with familiarity, I will tell you how I abhor the insolence, and resent the affront. How dare you attempt to touch me, Mr. Tyndal?"