"'Orse won't do it, ma'am," was the response. "Steep 'ill this. Can't go no faster."
The little lady gave an indignant snort, and retired once more into the depths of the gloomy fly. Presently a bend in the avenue brought the old manor house into view. Once more she thrust out her head and examined it critically.
"There it stands," she said to herself. "I was very happy at the Manor as a girl. I wonder if the old garden still exists. Twenty to one it has been done away with; there's no saying. Evangeline had such dreadfully queer ideas. Yes, there stands the house, and I do hope some remnants of the garden are in existence; but the thing above all others to consider now is, what kind these children are. Poor David, he was quite mad about Evangeline--not that I ever pretended to understand her. She was an American, and I hate the Americans; yes, I cordially hate them. Poor David, however, was devoted--oh, it was melancholy, melancholy! I suppose it was on account of Evangeline that all this splendid land has been allowed to lie fallow--not even cows, not even a stray sheep to eat all that magnificent grass. Wherever I turn I see flower-beds--flower-beds sloping away to east and west, as far almost as the eye can travel. And so there are four children. I have no doubt they are as queer, and old-fashioned, and untrained as possible. It would be like their mother to bring them up in that sort of style. Well, at least I am not the one to shirk my duty, and I certainly see it now staring me in the face. I am the wife of a hard-working vicar; I work hard myself, and I have five children of my own; but never mind, I am prepared to do my best for those poor deserted orphans. Ah, and here we are at last! That is a comfort."
The rickety old fly drew up with a jerk opposite the big front entrance, and Mrs. Dolman got out. She was short in stature, but her business-like manner and attitude were unmistakable. As soon as ever she set foot on the ground she turned to the man.
"Put the portmanteau down on the steps," she said. "You need not wait. What is your fare?"
The fly-driver named a price, which she immediately disputed.
"Nonsense!" she said. "Eight shillings for driving me from the station here? Why, it is only five miles."