"What the d——l do you mean, sir?" snapped the Major, "who is gone?"
"Miss Phyllida," groaned Thomas.
"Gone," breathed the widow, and the odour of diffused Sanspareil permeated the room.
"Gone where?" shouted the Major.
"To the desert beyond Jordan," answered the footman.
"With what viper in sheep's clothing?" gasped Mrs. Courteen.
"Which way, which way, sirrah?" interrupted practical Major Tarry.
"Lunnon," ejaculated Thomas, fainting into the arms of a chair.
This was why the inhabitants of the Wells saw a veteran of the Low Countries shaken up like a cherry in a basket. The sedate glories of the town were never more nicely displayed than on this famous occasion. From each bow-windowed shop came forth a bland shopkeeper and half a dozen inquisitive customers.
The little Miss Pettitoes trilled in bird-like accents: 'What an adventure!' and returned to a counter spangled with their gay little purchases, for the Miss Pettitoes were twin sisters and to-morrow was their birthday.