“Hapes, miss,” replied Patsy, who was smouldering with anger at the General’s reference to the colour of his head.
“But is it safe?” asked Mr Boxall, who had also descended from the waggonette. “Think, my dear Miss Lestrange, if there was another accident! Would it not be safer for me to drive you if you are determined to go in this vehicle? The children could find accommodation in the waggonette.”
“No, thanks,” said Miss Lestrange; “it is just the children I want to talk to.”
“Come on, Boxall,” cried the General; “we can’t stick here all day. Let her do what she likes—always will have her own way. Drive on.”
The waggonette and its contents drove on, and Miss Lestrange got into the “tub.”
Just as they were starting a big closed carriage drove by following in the direction of the waggonette. It contained Lady Molyneux, her maid, her pug dogs, and her jewel-case.
“We’ve been to the meet of the hounds,” explained Lord Gawdor. “That was Bob Mahony, the sweep, we were racing. He beat us, but he wouldn’t have beat us if he’d driven fair. I say, who was that gentleman with the big white face who wanted to drive you?”
“That was Mr Boxall,” said Miss Lestrange.
“He seemed awfully sweet on you,” said Lord Gawdor. “What’s the matter with his eyes?”
“I don’t know,” replied Miss Lestrange, blushing, “He’s—a Member of Parliament.”