CHAPTER XIV.
The next morning at breakfast Rose announced her intention of going to see if Lucy Ayres would not go to drive with her.
"There's one very nice little horse at the livery-stable," said she, "and I can drive.

It is a beautiful morning, and poor Lucy did not look very well yesterday, and I think it will do her good." Horace turned white.

Henry noticed it.

Sylvia, who was serving something, did not.

Henry had thought he had arrived at a knowledge of Horace's suspicions, which in themselves seemed to him perfectly groundless, and now that he had, as he supposed, proved them to be so, he was profoundly puzzled.