‘No, but if that is all that troubles you, ma’am, pray do not give it another thought!’ said Sophy. ‘Cecy and I will arrange everything, and you shall have nothing to do but choose what dress you will wear, and receive your guests.’
Lady Ombersley blinked at her. ‘But, my love, you could not!’
‘Indeed I could!’ asserted Sophy, smiling warmly at her. ‘Why, I have managed all Sir Horace’s parties since I was seventeen years old! And that puts me in mind of something I must do at once! Where shall I find Hoare’s Bank, Aunt Lizzie?’
‘Find Hoare’s Bank?’ echoed Lady Ombersley blankly.
‘What in the world can you want to knowthatfor?’ asked Cecilia.
Sophy looked a little surprised. ‘Why, to present Sir Horace’s letter of authorization, to be sure!’ she answered. ‘I must do so at once, or I may find myself quite at a loss.’ She perceived that her aunt and cousin were looking, if anything, rather more bewildered than ever, and lifted her brows. ‘But what have I said?’ she asked, between amusement and dismay. ‘Hoare’s, you know! Sir Horace banks with them!’
‘Yes, my dear, I daresay he may, butyoudo not have an account with a bank!’ expostulated Lady Ombersley.
‘No, alas! It is such a bore! However, we settled it that I should draw upon Sir Horace’s funds for my needs. And for the expenses of the household, of course, but at this present we have no house,’ said Sophy, lavishly spreading butter on her fourth slice of bread.
‘My love! Young ladiesnever–! Why, I myself have never entered your uncle’s bank in my life!’ said Lady Ombersley, deeply moved.
‘No?’ said Sophy. ‘Perhaps he prefers to settle all the bills himself? Nothing teases Sir Horace more than to be for ever applied to for money! He taught me years ago to understand business, and so we go on very happily.’ Her brow wrinkled. ‘I hope that Sancia will learn to manage for him. Poor angel! He will very much dislike it if he must study the bills, and pay all the wages.’
‘I never heard of such a thing!’ said Lady Ombersley. ‘Really, Horace – But never mind that! Dear child, you cannot possibly need to draw funds while you are with me!’
Sophy could not help laughing at her aunt’s evident conviction that Hoare’s Bank must be a haunt of vice, but she said: ‘Indeed I shall need funds! You have no notion how expensive I am, ma’am! And Sir Horace warned me most particularly not to allow myself to be a charge on you.’
Cecilia, her eyes round with wonder, asked: ‘Does your Papa set no limit to what you spend?’
‘No, how could he do so, when he has gone quite out of reach, and can have no notion what I might suddenly need? He knowsI shall not outrun the carpenter. But I did not mean to tease you with my affairs! Only, in what part of the town is Hoare’s situated, if you please?’
Fortunately, since neither of the other ladies had the smallest idea of the locality of any bank, Mr Rivenhall came into the room at this moment. He was dressed for riding, and had merely looked in to ask his mother if she had any commissions she might desire him to execute in the City, whither he was bound. She had none, but did not hesitate (in spite of his probable disapproval) to divulge to him Sophy’s extraordinary wish to be directed to Hoare’s Bank. He took this with equanimity, and even bore up wonderfully under the disclosure that she was at liberty to draw on her father’s account. He said: ‘Unusual!’ but he seemed to be more amused than disapproving. ‘Hoare’s Bank is at Temple Bar,’ he added. ‘If your need is urgent, I am driving into the City myself this morning, and shall be happy to escort you.’
‘Thank you! If my aunt has no objection I shall be glad to go with you. When do you wish to start?’
‘I shall await your convenience, cousin,’ he replied politely.
This civility augured well for the expedition, and made Lady Ombersley, always inclined to be optimistic, nourish the hope that Charles had taken one of his rare likings to his cousin. He was certainly predisposed in her favour when he found that she did not keep him waiting; and she, for her part, could not think very badly of a man who drove such a splendid pair of horses in his curricle. She took her place beside him in this vehicle; the groom swung himself up behind, as the horses plunged past him; and Sophy, herself no mean whip, preserved a critical but not unappreciative silence while Charles controlled the first ardour of his pair. Reserving her ultimate judgement until she should have seen him with a tandem, or a four-in-hand, she yet felt that she could safely repose confidence in his ability to aid her in the purchase of carriage-horses for her own use, and said presently: ‘I must buy a carriage, and don’t know whether to choose a curricle or a high-perch phaeton. Which do you recommend, cousin?’
‘Neither,’ he replied, steadying his horses round a bend in the street.
‘Oh?’ said Sophy, rather surprised. ‘What, then?’
He glanced down at her. ‘You are not serious, are you?’
‘Not serious? Of course I am serious!’
‘If you wish to drive, I will take you in the Park one day,’ he said. ‘I expect I can find a horse – or even a pair – in the stables quiet enough for a lady to drive.’
‘Oh, I fear that would never do!’ said Sophy, shaking her head.
‘Indeed? Why not?’
‘I might excite the horse,’ said Sophy dulcetly.
He was momentarily taken aback. Then he laughed, and said: ‘I beg your pardon: I had no intention of offending you! But you cannot need a carriage in London. You will no doubt drive out with my mother, and if you should wish to go on some particular errand you may always order one of the carriages to be sent round to the house for your use.’
‘That,’ said Sophy, ‘is very obliging of you, but will not suit me quite so well. Where does one buy carriages in London?’
‘You will scarcely drive yourself about the town in a curricle!’ he said. ‘Nor do I consider a high-perch phaeton at all a suitable vehicle for a lady. They are not easy to drive. I should not care to see any of my sisters making the attempt.’
‘You must remember to tell them so,’ said Sophy affably. ‘Do they mind what you say to them? I never had a brother myself, so I can’t know.’
