Lady Annabel smiled, but did not reply.

The next morning the fawn-coloured chariot, which had rarely been used since Lady Annabel’s arrival at Cherbury, and four black long-tailed coach-horses, that from absolute necessity had been degraded, in the interval, to the service of the cart and the plough, made their appearance, after much bustle and effort, before the hall-door.  Although a morning’s stroll from Cherbury through the woods, Cadurcis was distant nearly ten miles by the road, and that road was in great part impassable, save in favourable seasons.  This visit, therefore, was an expedition; and Lady Annabel, fearing the fatigue for a child, determined to leave Venetia at home, from whom she had actually never been separated one hour in her life.  Venetia could not refrain from shedding a tear when her mother embraced and quitted her, and begged, as a last favour, that she might accompany her through the park to the avenue lodge.  So Pauncefort and herself entered the chariot, that rocked like a ship, in spite of all the skill of the coachman and the postilion.

Venetia walked home with Mistress Pauncefort, but Lady Annabel’s little daughter was not in her usual lively spirits; many a butterfly glanced around without attracting her pursuit, and the deer trooped by without eliciting a single observation.  At length she said, in a thoughtful tone, ’Mistress Pauncefort, I should have liked to have gone and seen the little boy.’

‘You shall go and see him another day, Miss,’ replied her attendant.

‘Mistress Pauncefort,’ said Venetia, ‘are you a widow?’

Mistress Pauncefort almost started; had the inquiry been made by a man, she would almost have supposed he was going to be very rude.  She was indeed much surprised.

’And pray, Miss Venetia, what could put it in your head to ask such an odd question?’ exclaimed Mistress Pauncefort.  ’A widow!  Miss Venetia; I have never yet changed my name, and I shall not in a hurry, that I can tell you.’

‘Do widows change their names?’ said Venetia.

‘All women change their names when they marry,’ responded Mistress Pauncefort.

‘Is mamma married?’ inquired Venetia.

’La!  Miss Venetia.  Well, to be sure, you do ask the strangest questions.  Married! to be sure she is married,’ said Mistress Pauncefort, exceedingly flustered.

‘And whom is she married to?’ pursued the unwearied Venetia.

‘Your papa, to be sure,’ said Mistress Pauncefort, blushing up to her eyes, and looking very confused; ’that is to say, Miss Venetia, you are never to ask questions about such subjects.  Have not I often told you it is not pretty?’

‘Why is it not pretty?’ said Venetia.

‘Because it is not proper,’ said Mistress Pauncefort; ’because your mamma does not like you to ask such questions, and she will be very angry with me for answering them, I can tell you that.’

‘I tell you what, Mistress Pauncefort,’ said Venetia, ’I think mamma is a widow.’