e 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 no