A meal was served in the very tidy little sitting-room, where Miss Susan found that places had been laid for Owen and herself; it was evident that the farmer’s wife considered him—if not her son—her equal! To this arrangement she assented, and, in spite of his apologies, Miss Susan and her chauffeur for once had supper together without any mutual embarrassment.
Afterwards, he went out to a neighbouring farm to see if he could hire a pony-trap for the following day, and although Miss Susan was painfully nervous about her sister, she was secretly delighted with a sense of freedom and adventure, and slept soundly in the middle of a high feather-bed—in a big four-poster—into which it was necessary to ascend by steps.
Owing to vexatious delays in securing a trap, driver, and harness, it was tea-time the next afternoon when Miss Susan drove sedately up to the hall door at the Manor.
Miss Parrett was prostrate, and in the hands of the doctor! The telegram, dispatched at an early hour from the nearest office to Moppington, was—on a principle that occasionally prevails in out-of-the-way places—delivered hours after Miss Susan had set the minds of her little world at rest! There had been an exciting rumour in the village—emanating from the Drum—that “Miss Susan had eloped with the good-looking shover,” at any rate no one could deny that they had gone to Hillminster the day before, had probably been married at the registry office, and subsequently fled! The Drum was crowded with impassioned talkers, Mrs. Hogben was besieged, and the whole of Ottinge was pervaded by a general air of pleasurable anticipation. One fact was certain, that, up till three o’clock of this, the following afternoon, neither of the runaways had returned! However, just as it had gone four, here was Miss Susan—bringing to some a distinct feeling of disappointment—seated erect in a little basket carriage, drawn by an immense cart-horse, driven at a foot pace by a boy; and a couple of hours later she was followed by the motor, this time on a lorry, and, undoubtedly, also, on what is called “its last legs.”
When everything had been exhaustively explained to Miss Parrett, she, having solemnly inspected the remains of her beautiful green car and heard what its repairs were likely to cost, heard also the price which she would be offered for it—fifteen pounds—broke into a furious passion and declared, with much vehemence and in her shrillest pipe, that never, never more would she again own a motor!
And, since the motor had ceased to be required, there was no further use for a chauffeur, and once more Owen Wynyard was looking for a situation.
CHAPTER XXVIII
A NEW SITUATION
The venerable green motor, whose value by an expert had been so brutally assessed, was not considered worth repair, yet Miss Bella Parrett could not endure to part with a possession which had cost five hundred pounds, for fifteen sovereigns; so it was thrust into a coach-house, shut in the dark with cobwebs and rats, and abandoned to its fate.
Miss Susan, who enjoyed motoring and liked the chauffeur, was exceedingly anxious that Bella should purchase another car, but of course she was powerless, being next to penniless herself; indeed, at the outside, her income amounted to one hundred a year—less income tax. The mere word motor seemed now to operate upon her wealthy sister as a red rag to a bull; for the loss of five hundred pounds rankled in her heart like a poisoned arrow.
The old lady had decided for a brougham, a middle-aged driver, and a steady horse. (It may here be added that the animal, which was coal-black and had a flowing tail, came out of the stables of an undertaker, and was as sedate and slow as any funeral procession could desire.)