Patricia, however, declared that she could eat anything.
"Mr. Bruce Avory," said Aunt May, "you're drinkin' nothing. Would you rather have lemonade or barley-water?"
Poor Gregory! he knew what he wanted—lemonade—but he didn't know whether he ought to address Aunt May as "My Lady" or "Your Ladyship" or "Lady Rusper." He had tried to get a moment with Hester to ask about it, but without success.
"If she was only our aunt!" he thought, and then said, without using any name at all, that he would like lemonade.
Lady Rusper made them tell her the story all through once again, "right from the beginnin'," as she called it; and just as Hester had got to the end of her part of it a boy arrived leading Marshall, and Patricia leaped up and rushed across the lawn to fondle her pony. Then she dashed back for a piece of sugar, and was off again. The boy said that the blacksmith, who was also a farrier, had seen Marshall, and declared he was quite sound; but Snelgrove was done for completely, and the trap was too badly smashed ever to be much use.
"Put Marshall in the stable," said Aunt May, "and have the trap brought here."
At the news about Snelgrove Patricia began to cry again.
"Well," said Aunt May, "we must see what can be done. I dare say there are more ponies in the world. But I suppose we shall all be driven to motors before long. It's a great shame. I spend most of my time detestin' the things; but they've got to come. And now," she said to Hester, "tell me all about your home and your caravan;" and Hester again told the story, saying "Lady Rusper" with an ease that made Gregory gasp.
After lunch they all went to the stables, where, in a loose-box, beautifully snug in the straw, lay another black spaniel, Venus, with three puppies ("Oh, the darlings!" cried Hester) snuggling to her.
"Do you think your mother would let you keep a spaniel?" Aunt May asked.