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Such intelligence was being communicated as the party stood together
in a group, when there was a light tinkling of bells, and two ladies
in a light open carriage, drawn by two spirited ponies, dashed round
the knoll; and at the moment something must have gone wrong with
them, for there was a start, a pull, a call of "Raymond! Raymond!"
Throwing his bridle to Herbert Bowater, he sprang to the horses'
heads.
"Mr. Poynsett! Thank you! I beg your pardon," said the lady,
recovering herself; and Rosamond instantly perceived that she must
be Lady Tyrrell, for she was young-looking, very handsome, and in
slight mourning; and her companion was Miss Vivian. Julius, holding
his surviving glass to his eye, likewise stepped forward. "Thank
you, it was so stupid," the lady ran on. "Is not there something
wrong with the traces? I don't know how they got themselves
harnessed, but there was no keeping at home."
"I think all is right," said Raymond, gravely, making the
examination over to a servant. "Let me introduce my wife, Lady
Tyrrell."
The lady held out her hand.


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