When the service was over, Mr. Sanford said, very simply: "My friends, we have now come to the beginning of another week, and I wish to thank you all for faithful service. If, at any time I have been impatient with any of you, I ask your forgiveness. And now I bid you all good night." The butler showed them all out, looking at the footman, I thought, as much as to say: "Have you any complaint to make about the master? If so, kindly address yourself to me!" As for me, I confess I had a "lump" in my throat. As we drove away next morning, Ruth said: "I suppose by this time you have become a Tory!" "No," I said, "not quite, but if you ever hear me say a word against England again say 'Sanford,' and I will cry 'Peccavi.' How cheap and self-conscious democracy seems after this glimpse of English gentle people. Where can their like be found?" XXV THE COUNTY FAMILIES John should be writing this, but he says he is tired. I am sure he must be. But there is another reason, which is that he is cross, poor dear, and you, no doubt, will think with good reason when you hear what he has been through. On leaving Sharrow--the Sanfords' place--we drove to the village where still stands the inn known as "The Maypole" in "Barnaby Rudge." Willit is dead, and I saw nothing as attractive as Dolly Varden, nor anything as horrible, I am thankful to say, as Hugh. In other words, we felt as Thackeray says he felt when he visited Tours--it had none of the charm which he had expected after reading "Quentin Durward"! I urged John to leave the car at the Maypole and go to town by train, for I knew it would be an exhausting experience to drive through the city. But no. He was determined to see if he was enough of a chauffeur to accomplish a feat which tries the nerve of a professional! So we started.