Drewett's carriage was up
first, while Lucy's was in the rear. Yes, Lucy's carriage!--the dear
girl having come into immediate possession of her relative's houses,
furniture, horses, carriages, and everything else, without reserve,
just as they had been left behind by the last incumbent, when she
departed from the scene of life, to lie down in the grave. Mrs.
Bradfort's arms were still on the chariot, I observed, its owner
refusing all Rupert's solicitations to supplant them by those of
Hardinge. The latter took his revenge, however, by telling everybody
how generous he was in keeping a carriage for his sister.
The Major handed Mrs. Drewett in, and her son was compelled to say
good night, to see his mother home. This gave me one blessed minute
with Lucy, by herself. She spoke of Grace; said they had now been
separated months, longer than they ever had been before in their
lives, and that all her own persuasions could not induce my sister to
rejoin her in town, while her own wish to visit Clawbonny had been
constantly disappointed, Rupert insisting that her presence was
necessary, for so many arrangements about business.
"Grace is not as humble as I was, in old times, Miles," said the dear
girl, looking me in the face, half sadly, half reproachfully, the
light of the lamp falling full on her tearful, tender eyes, "and I
hope you are not about to imitate her bad example.
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