A hundred yards to the right there was a cross-road and a sign-post, which read, taking one set of arms:
[Illustration: Carlow 126 Miles]
Taking the other
[Illustration: ½ way to Dublin]
“Half-way from where?” asked Miss Lestrange.
“I don’t know,” replied Mr Fanshawe.
The wind blew amidst the thistles at the foot of the sign-post in a cynical manner, and the cawing of crows came from the fields.
“I shouldn’t mind,” she said, “only for the row we’re sure to get into; they’ll be waiting luncheon. It’s bad enough our running on and leaving him in the ditch, but that’s nothing to keeping him waiting for luncheon.”
“Why the deuce need they wait?” cried Mr Fanshawe.
“You don’t know what he’s like when he’s kept waiting for his food,” said Miss Lestrange.