‘Cadurcis,’ said his cousin to him one morning, ’we are all going to Hampton Court.  Now is your time; Lady Annabel, the Vernons, and myself, will fill one carriage; I have arranged that.  Look out, and something may be done.  Speak to the Countess.’

Accordingly Lord Cadurcis hastened to make a suggestion to a friend always flattered by his notice.  ‘My dear friend,’ he said in his softest tone, ’let you and Venetia and myself manage to be together; it will be so delightful; we shall quite enjoy ourselves.’

The Countess did not require this animating compliment to effect the object which Cadurcis did not express.  She had gradually fallen into the unacknowledged conspiracy against her sister-in-law, whose prejudice against her friend she had long discovered, and had now ceased to combat.  Two carriages, and one filled as George had arranged, accordingly drove gaily away; and Venetia, and her aunt, and Lord Cadurcis were to follow them on horseback.  They rode with delight through the splendid avenues of Bushey, and Cadurcis was never in a lighter or happier mood.

The month of May was in its decline, and the cloudless sky and the balmy air such as suited so agreeable a season.  The London season was approaching its close; for the royal birthday was, at the period of our history, generally the signal of preparation for country quarters.  The carriages arrived long before the riding party, for they had walked their steeds, and they found a messenger who requested them to join their friends in the apartments which they were visiting.

‘For my part,’ said Cadurcis, ’I love the sun that rarely shines in this land.  I feel no inclination to lose the golden hours in these gloomy rooms.  What say you, ladies fair, to a stroll in the gardens?  It will be doubly charming after our ride.’

His companions cheerfully assented, and they walked away, congratulating themselves on their escape from the wearisome amusement of palace-hunting, straining their eyes to see pictures hung at a gigantic height, and solemnly wandering through formal apartments full of state beds and massy cabinets and modern armour.

Taking their way along the terrace, they struck at length into a less formal path.  At length the Countess seated herself on a bench.  ’I must rest,’ she said, ’but you, young people, may roam about; only do not lose me.’

‘Come, Venetia!’ said Lord Cadurcis.

Venetia was hesitating; she did not like to leave her aunt alone, but the Countess encouraged her, ’If you will not go, you will only make me continue walking,’ she said.  And so Venetia proceeded, and for the first time since her visit was alone with Plantagenet.

‘I quite love your aunt,’ said Lord Cadurcis.

‘It is difficult indeed not to love her,’ said Venetia.

‘Ah, Venetia!  I wish your mother was like your aunt,’ he continued.  It was an observation which was not heard without some emotion by his companion, though it was imperceptible.  ‘Venetia,’ said Cadurcis, ’when I recollect old days, how strange it seems that we now never should be alone, but by some mere accident, like this, for instance.’