icating that arrangements would
ultimately be ordered to receive her at Raynham. Richard had replied
nothing; which might mean excess of gratitude, or hypocrisy in concealing
his pleasure, or any one of the thousand shifts by which gratified human
nature expresses itself when all is made to run smooth with it. Now Mrs.
Berry had her surprise ready charged for the young husband. She had Lucy
in her own house waiting for him. Every day she expected him to call and
be overcome by the rapturous surprise, and every day, knowing his habit
of frequenting the park, she marched Lucy thither, under the plea that
Master Richard, whom she had already christened, should have an airing.

The round of the red winter sun was behind the bare Kensington chestnuts,
when these two parties met. Happily for Lucy and the hope she bore in her
bosom, she was perversely admiring a fair horsewoman galloping by at the
moment. Mrs. Berry plucked at her gown once or twice, to prepare her eyes
for the shock, but Lucy's head was still half averted, and thinks Mrs.
Berry, "Twon't hurt her if she go into his arms head foremost." They were
close; Mrs. Berry performed the bob preliminary. Richard held her silent
with a terrible face; he grasped her arm, and put her behind him. Other
people intervened. Lucy saw nothing to account for Berry's excessive
flutter. Berry threw it on the air and some breakfast bacon, which, she
said, she knew in the morning while she ate it, was bad for the bile, and
which probably was the cause of her bursting into tears, much to Lucy's
astonishment.

"What you ate makes you cry, Mrs. Berry?"

"It's all--" Mrs. Berry pressed at her heart and leaned sideways, "it's
all stomach, my dear. Don't ye mind," and becoming aware of her
unfashionable behaviour, she trailed off to the shelter of the elms.

"You have a singular manner with old ladies," said Sir Austin to his son,
after Berry had been swept aside.

Scarcely courteous. She behaved like a mad woman, certainly."--Are you
ill, my son?"

Richard was death-pale, his strong form smitten through with weakness.
The baronet sought Adrian's eye. Adrian had seen Lucy as they passed, and
he had a glimpse of Richard's countenance while disposing of Berry. Had
Lucy recognized them, he would have gone to her unhesitatingly. As she
did not, he thought it well, under the circumstances, to leave matters as
they were. He answered the baronet's look with a shrug.

"Are you ill, Richard?"