Laura and Robert remained chatting for some time by the fire, she talking of the thousand and one wonderful things which were to be done when she was mistress of the New Hall.

There was less philanthropy in her talk when her future husband was absent, and Robert could not but remark that her carriages, her dresses, her receptions, and her travels in distant countries were the topics into which she threw all the enthusiasm which he had formerly heard her bestow upon refuge homes and labour organisations.
"I think that greys are the nicest horses," she said.

"Bays are nice too, but greys are more showy.

We could manage with a brougham and a landau, and perhaps a high dog-cart for Raffles.

He has the coach-house full at present, but he never uses them, and I am sure that those fifty horses would all die for want of exercise, or get livers like Strasburg geese, if they waited for him to ride or drive them." "I suppose that you will still live here ?" said her brother.
"We must have a house in London as well, and run up for the season.