But there they were fast, with a broken wheel, plunging horses, and a drunken coachman. Luckily for them, the colonel and Lancelot were following close behind, and came to their assistance.
The colonel, as usual, solved the problem.
‘Your dog-cart will carry four, Smith?’
‘It will.’
‘Then let the ladies get in, and Mr. Lavington drive them home.’
‘What?’ said the squire, ‘with both my hands red-hot with the gout? You must drive three of us, colonel, and one of us must walk.’
‘I will walk,’ said Argemone, in her determined way.
Mrs. Lavington began something about propriety, but was stopped with another pound’s worth of oaths by the squire, who, however, had tolerably recovered his good humour, and hurried Mrs. Lavington and Honoria, laughingly, into the dog-cart, saying—
‘Argemone’s safe enough with Smith; the servants will lead the horses behind them. It’s only three miles home, and I should like to see any one speak to her twice while Smith’s fists are in the way.’
Lancelot thought so too.