Kink, who was a great tease, pretended to think for quite a long time, until his silence had driven the children nearly desperate. "Yes," he then said, "I should, mum, provided you let me find a trustworthy man to go on with the garden. Otherwise I shouldn't dare to face Mrs. Collins when I came back."
"That's very kind of you, Kink," said Mrs. Avory.
"Good old Kinky!" said Gregory.
"Yes," said Mr. Lenox. "And now for item two. The horse. How would you go to work to get a horse, Kink?"
"Well," said Kink, "that's a little out of my way. A horse radish, yes; but not a horse."
Everyone laughed: the old man expected it.
"Then," said Mr. Lenox, with a mock sigh, "I suppose the horse will have to be found by me. We don't want to buy one—only to hire it."
"Don't let's have a horse," said Gregory; "let's have a motor. I think a motor caravan would be splendid."
"There you're quite wrong," said Mr. Lenox. "The life-blood of a caravan is sloth; the life-blood of a motor is speed. You can't mix them. And how could Robert here survey England creditably if he rushed through it in a motor? You're going to survey England, aren't you, Bobbie? No, it must be a horse, and I will get it. I will make friends with cabmen, and coachmen, and grooms, and stable-boys. I will carry a straw in my mouth. I will get a horse to do you credit. What colour would you like?"
"White," said Janet.