“Oh, pshaw! ’Tis nought. I want your opinion on the bay mare I bought last week. You’ll maybe think her a trifle long in the leg, but she’s a fine animal.”

John had run indoors, and the two men proceeded to the stables alone, Andrew discoursing all the way, recounting for his brother-in-law’s benefit the choicest morsels of scandal that were circulating town at the moment. That his auditor but attended with half an ear affected him not at all; he never paused for an answer, and, in any case, was far too good-natured to care if he received none.

By the time they had duly inspected the mare and walked back to the house, it was nearly four o’clock, and, not altogether to Carstares’ surprise, Lavinia was awaiting them on the terrace, clad in a totally different gown, and with her hair freshly arranged and curled.

“ ’Twould appear that Lavinia has recovered,” remarked Andrew as they mounted the steps. “She was ever thus⁠—not two minutes the same. Well, Lavvy?”