Not much more was said after this.

Miss Lowder had a neuralgic headache, developed by the cold wind and an undigested dinner eaten irregularly.

She was too polite to mention her sufferings, but leaned back in the carriage and was silent.
My vis-a-vis was at last relieved by the declining sun from his task, and so the umbrella-arm and its sleeve-button were removed from my range of vision.
We counted the mile-posts, and we looked sometimes at our watches, and so the time wore away.
Kilian and Mary Leighton were chattering incessantly, and did not pay much attention to us.

Kilian drove pretty fast almost all the way, but sometimes forgot himself when Mary was too seductive, and let the horses creep along like snails.
"There's our little tavern," cried Kilian at last, starting up the horses.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," murmured Mary Leighton, "we have had such a lovely drive." My vis-a-vis groaned and looked at me as this observation reached us.

I laughed a little hysterically: I was so glad to be at the half-way house--and Mary Leighton's words were so absurd.