CHAPTER XXXIV
STRANDED!
The following morning the guests who still remained at the Court, made up a party to attend a race meeting at Knapshot. Knapshot was thirty miles away, and could be reached by rail,—as the Court was but a short distance from a mean, and undeserving little station. However, most of the party decided to go by motor; Mrs. De Wolfe, Mrs. Horne, Sir Dudley and Nancy in the comfortable roomy Daimler, with Roger De Wolfe sitting by the chauffeur, Major Horne, Billy Miller, Josie and Captain Mayne, followed in the new Rolls-Royce. Several preferred to travel by rail, and Mrs. Hicks remained at home, to rest her weary bones, and repose upon her well-earned laurels.
The races, though not particularly notable, offered good sport; the lunch was excellent, the ladies had their fortunes told, and did a little betting. Mrs. De Wolfe and Mrs. Horne elected to return by train early in the afternoon, as there was a dinner-party at the Court that night—the last function of the week, moreover, the old ladies found motoring rather hot, and dusty; and escorted by Roger, left the rest of the party to follow, enjoining on all, that on no account were they to be late.
"We will go back just as we came!" said Josie, "we played games all the way, and don't want to break up our happy little set!"
This arrangement left Sir Dudley and Nancy to share the Daimler tête-à-tête, and she offered a seat to Billy, who, however (naturally), preferred to travel in company with Major Horne!
"We will take different roads," declared Josie, who seemed to have assumed command of the whole party, "and race, and see which car gets home first? The Charlton road is the shortest: but it's out of repair, the other by Langford is a couple of miles longer—but good going all the way. Shall we toss, Dudley?—come, be sporting, and have something on!"
They tossed accordingly, Mrs. Speyde won the long route—and booked a bet of five pounds.
With a good deal of laughing, and joking, the competitors started together, but within a quarter of a mile, the cars had separated, the Rolls-Royce to take a high road, more or less bordering the railway, the Daimler to plunge into what seemed to be the very heart and soul of the country. It was a light and lovely September evening, and they sped along with noiseless ease,—considering the ruts.
"This is a ripping good car!" remarked Sir Dudley, "and Josie's five pounds is already in my pocket,—I suppose your chauffeur knows the way?"