Gregory, who was looking out of the door and meditating an escape from so much dampness, and a conversation on the whole matter with Kink, exclaimed suddenly, "Hello, I guess this is your mother.""Yes, it is," cried Patricia, standing up and waving her handkerchief to a lady seated in a milk-cart, which was being driven after them at a tremendous pace."I wondered who she'd get to bring her here, and it's young Daniel Wilson.Tell your man to stop, please."Mrs.Mordan, whom Gregory thought both a nice and a pretty lady, leapt out of the milk-cart and ran up the steps of the Slowcoach, and mother and daughter hugged each other for quite two minutes, while Gregory looked at young Daniel Wilson, and Patricia began to cry afresh-- this time because she was happy.
Mrs.Mordan was happy too.The grief she had felt for the accident and the injury to poor Snelgrove, whom she had left in agony by the road, passed away when she found her little daughter unhurt.
She sat holding Patricia's hand, and asked Hester a number of questions, and gave her a number of thanks all together.
Gregory meanwhile had got out, and was asking young Daniel Wilson how ponies are shot; and what he did about getting milk to the station when the snow was two feet thick; and if the cows often kicked the buckets over.
"It's not us," said Hester, "it's Kink who was so useful.""Who is Kink?" Mrs.Mordan asked.
"Our gardener," said Hester, "but he drives the caravan for us;" and gradually she told the whole Slowcoach story.
By this time they were at Ashton, and, after giving instructions about looking after the ponies,--sending for a veterinary surgeon and so forth,--Mrs.Mordan showed Kink the way to Aunt May's house, which they reached just before two.
Aunt May was standing by the gate? with five black spaniels about her, looking anxiously down the road--a tall lady with grey hair and top-boots, and a little whip in her hand.
"No," she said, as Kink stopped at the gate, "I don't want any chairs or kettles mended, or, indeed, anything from you at all."Kink, however, said nothing, but went to the back of the caravan and helped Mrs.Mordan and Patricia down.
"My precious Lina!" exclaimed Aunt May, when she saw them."Whatever has happened?""I'll tell you about it indoors," said Mrs.Mordan."These kind people are going to stop here for lunch, if you've got enough.""Of course there's enough," said Aunt May; "but I thought you were gipsies, or tinkers, or something objectionable.You're not a tinker, are you?" she said to Gregory.
"No," he said, "but I'd like to be a gypsy."And so they reached the house, which was an old-fashioned one, all among dark trees, with a very soft lawn in front of it.
Aunt May told Kink to go round to the back and be sure not to let Diogenes and the dogs fight, and then she began to call at the top of her voice for Simpkins.
After a while Simpkins appeared--an elderly bald man in a dress suit, who was evidently the butler.
"Simpkins," said Aunt May, "there will be two more to lunch, and there's a caravan at the back belonging to this gentleman here,"--indicating Gregory, who immediately grew three inches all over,--"and please give the driver a good dinner.""Yes, my lady," said Simpkins; and Hester and Gregory at once began to look at her with round eyes, for they had never before met anyone who was titled--I mean to speak to, although they had seen the Lord Mayor (who is of course a baronet) in his carriage only last November 9.
"And, Simpkins," said Aunt May, "take Mr.What is your name?" she asked Gregory.
"Gregory Bruce Avory," said he.
"Take Mr.Bruce Avory to the Pink Room, and get him some hot water.""Yes, my lady," said Simpkins, and Gregory grew another inch all over.
And then Aunt May led the others upstairs.
Gregory finished his washing first, and walked to the dining-room, which opened on to the lawn, and was very bright and sweet-smelling.The walls were covered with pictures, and there were roses in blue bowls wherever a place could be found for them.
By the wall, in a row, were five round baskets, and directly Aunt May came in the five black spaniels, who were with her, went each to his basket, and lay there quietly, with his head resting on the edge and his eyes fixed on his mistress.Their names were Mars, Saturn, Orion, Mercury, and Jupiter;and from time to time Aunt May called one to her and gave it a little piece of food, while the others glittered with expectation.
"Now," said Aunt May, "let's get on with our eatin', for I'm sure you're all hungry, and I know I am.Patricia dear, do you think you can eat solid things, or shall we get something else?"Patricia, however, declared that she could eat anything.
"Mr.Bruce Avory," said Aunt May, "you're drinkin' nothing.Would you rather have lemonade or barley-water?"Poor Gregory! he knew what he wanted--lemonade--but he didn't know whether he ought to address Aunt May as "My Lady " or "Your Ladyship " or "Lady Rusper." He had tried to get a moment with Hester to ask about it, but without success.
"If she was only our aunt!" he thought, and then said, without using any name at all, that he would like lemonade.
Lady Rusper made them tell her the story all through once again, "right from the beginnin'," as she called it; and just as Hester had got to the end of her part of it a boy arrived leading Marshall, and Patricia leaped up and rushed across the lawn to fondle her pony.Then she dashed back for a piece of sugar, and was off again.The boy said that the blacksmith, who was also a farrier, had seen Marshall, and declared he was quite sound; but Snelgrove was done for completely, and the trap was too badly smashed ever to be much use.
"Put Marshall in the stable," said Aunt May, "and have the trap brought here."At the news about Snelgrove Patricia began to cry again.
