Aunt May was standing by the gate? with five black spaniels about her, looking anxiously down the road—a tall lady with grey hair and top-boots, and a little whip in her hand.
"No," she said, as Kink stopped at the gate, "I don't want any chairs or kettles mended, or, indeed, anything from you at all."
Kink, however, said nothing, but went to the back of the caravan and helped Mrs. Mordan and Patricia down.
"My precious Lina!" exclaimed Aunt May, when she saw them. "Whatever has happened?"
"I'll tell you about it indoors," said Mrs. Mordan. "These kind people are going to stop here for lunch, if you've got enough."
"Of course there's enough," said Aunt May; "but I thought you were gipsies, or tinkers, or something objectionable. You're not a tinker, are you?" she said to Gregory.
"No," he said, "but I'd like to be a gypsy."
And so they reached the house, which was an old-fashioned one, all among dark trees, with a very soft lawn in front of it.
Aunt May told Kink to go round to the back and be sure not to let Diogenes and the dogs fight, and then she began to call at the top of her voice for Simpkins.
After a while Simpkins appeared—an elderly bald man in a dress suit, who was evidently the butler.