But, at this moment, hearing the wheels of the dog-cart at the door,
Anthea turned, and hastened out into the sunshine.
"A lovely day it do be for drivin'," said Adam touching his hat, "an' Bess be thinkin' the same, I do believe!" and he patted the glossy coat of the mare, who arched her neck, and pawed the gravel with an impatient hoof. Lightly, and nimbly Anthea swung herself up to the high seat, turning to make Small Porges secure beside her, as Bellew handed him up.
"You'll—look after things for me, Adam?" said Anthea, glancing back wistfully into the dim recesses of the cool, old hall.
"Aye,—I will that, Miss Anthea!"
"Mr. Bellew, we can find room for you if you care to come with us?"
"Thanks," said he, shaking his head, "but I rather think I'll stay here, and—er—help Adam to—to—look after things, if you don't mind."
"Then,—'Good-bye!'" said Anthea, and, nodding to Adam, he gave the mare her head, and off they went.
"Good-bye!" cried Small Porges, "an' thank you for the shilling Uncle
Porges."
"The mare is—er—rather fresh this morning, isn't she, Adam?" enquired
Bellew, watching the dog-cart's rapid course.
"Fresh sir?"