“It strikes me, that is not the only point in which you resemble the ‘gunpowder Percy,’ as old Falstaff calls him. By the way,” he continued, “what in the world was the matter with ‘Aunt Sally,’ a minute ago she seems to go quietly enough now.” “I rather fancy something must have hurt her mouth,” replied Harry, turning away his head to conceal a smile. As he spoke, they drove round the gravel sweep leading to the hall door of Hazlehurst Grange. Beneath the porch stood two gentlemen--in one of whom, corpulent and elderly, Coverdale had little trouble in recognising, from his likeness to his friend, Mr. Hazlehurst senior; while the other, tall, thin, and cadaverous-looking, he rightly conjectured to be the opulent and amorous cotton spinner, Jedediah Crane. CHAPTER V.--PROVES THE ADVISABILITY OF LOOKING BEFORE YOU LEAP. Nearly a week had elapsed since Harry Coverdale had first become an inmate of Hazlehurst Grange, during which period he had contrived to win the good opinion of the elders of the party, pique the young ladies by his _brusquerie_ and neglect, annoy Hazlehurst by his insensibility and determination not to make himself agreeable, and finally to have provoked the enmity of the fascinating Horace D’Almayne, which last piece of delinquency was a source of unmitigated satisfaction to its perpetrator. The day on which we resume the thread of our narrative, was to be devoted to a picnic party, the object being to devour unlimited cold lamb and pigeon-pie amongst the ruins of an old abbey, some eight miles from the Grange. The morning was lovely, every one appeared in high spirits, and the expedition promised to be a prosperous one. “Now, then, good people,” exclaimed Arthur Hazlehurst, “what are the arrangements--who rides, who drives, who goes with who?--come to the point and settle something, for the _tempus_ is _fugit_-ing at a most alarming pace.” “I am desirous,” observed Mr. Crane slowly and solemnly, “of soliciting the honour of driving Miss Hazlehurst in my phaeton, if I may venture to hope such an arrangement will not be disagreeable to that lady:” and as he spoke, the cotton spinner, whose tall, ungainly figure, clad in a dust-coloured wrapper, white trousers, and white hat, gave him the appearance of a superannuated baker’s boy run very decidedly to seed, bowed appealingly to Alice, who, perceiving her father’s eye upon her, was forced unwillingly to consent. “Mr. Coverdale, will you drive a lady in the pony-chaise?” inquired Hazlehurst _père_. “My niece will be happy to accompany you, or my saucy little Emily here,” he continued, gazing with paternal fondness on his younger daughter, a pretty but slightly pert girl of sixteen. “I should have much pleasure,” muttered Harry; “but--but--I contrived to hurt my right hand a few days ago, and--ar--not being used to the ponies, I should scarcely feel justified in undertaking the charge.”