The blue-coat chauffeur tucked Mr. Withersq and his Selia within the car which spead on greased wheels of lightning through the western of London and out into the more rustical parts where there were trees. Quick oh quick they moved and Selia’s heart came in her mouth several times with people and no small quantity of dogs they shaved past.
Twilight had settled when they drew up with a good toot on their grunty hooter at the white wicker gate of the country home of the Countess on the evening of the proper day as they had somewhat artfully arranged only to arrive in time for dinner.
As well as they could see squinting through the darkness it was a very low house and very [125] ]broad like a tennis club but of course more grand looking very nice with nice smelling flowers about and two white peacocks strolling on the lawn. But alas to their dismay no one was at home. Only a little page-boy and he was a stuttering one, and had some trouble to get out that the family was on the river in their boat, so that Mr. Withersq gave him a sixpence and let him go.
“Dear me” said he waving away the chauffeur who took off the car, “we are nicely sold and shall get no grub.”
“Yes indeed” said Selia very crossly “I think we had better go home again” for she had a vacancy.
“Not so” cried he “we have not come so far for nothing. Come with me.”
Now Selia was more than a bit tired and only followed him because she hoped to be fed rebuffing his kindly arm, she tottered on her high heels beside him in smothering rage. [126] ]But past experiences had taught our hero. “Fear not” he said “you will be well filled yet, for Unckle Burt has not died for nothing.”
And he led her through the dark lanes under the creepy trees towards the spottling lights of a near village. Selia was a good bit afraid as she feared to step on a frog or some other vermin and went picking her way. Still she had a pluck and kept moving only wishing herself elsewhere.
Soon they struck a cosy little pub where a man was hissing outside over the feet of a horse which he was washing. Selia looked at the horse which exchanged her glance but Mr. Withersq looked in the pub. He came out in a short moment to find his sweet leaning against the animal.
“All is well,” said he, “our party is close at hand.”