“Get ready, children,” he said. “I give you ten minutes, not more. And wrap up well.”
Chapter Two.
In the Moonlight.
It was almost quite dark when Mr Waldron’s dog-cart with its three occupants started on the four miles’ drive.
“I don’t know about your moon, Jerry,” said his father. “I’m afraid we shall not see much of her to-night. It is still so cloudy.”
“But they seem to be little flying clouds, not heavy rain bags,” said Charlotte. “And there is the moon, papa.”
“It’s almost full,” added Jerry. “I believe it’s going to be a beautiful night. Look, Charlotte, isn’t it interesting to watch her fighting her way through the clouds?”
She had fought to some purpose by the time they reached Gretham, the village on the other side of which lay Lady Mildred Osbert’s house. For when they entered the Silverthorns avenue the cold radiance, broken though not dimmed by the feathery shadows of the restless, rushing cloudlets, lighted up the trees on each side and the wide gravel drive before them, giving to all the strange unreal look which the most commonplace objects seem to assume in bright moonlight. Mr Waldron drove slowly, and at a turn which brought them somewhat suddenly into full view of the house itself he all but pulled up.