The warren was further than he had expected it would be, and the black rabbits were so long before they chose to show themselves, that Harry began to grew sceptical as to their existence; even when they did appear, a gamekeeper had to be routed out, and terms for the transfer of ten couples to Coverdale Park agreed upon; so that by the time Tom and his companion rejoined the pleasure-seekers, there were but few left to rejoin. These few consisted of the old maiden aunt; a time-honoured female friend of the same--older, uglier, still more like a hippopotamus, and with a double portion of the vinegar of inhuman unkindness in her nature; and, lastly, a plain young lady, the daughter of nobody in particular, who lived with the time-honoured friend as companion, in a state of chronic martyrdom, for which perpetual sacrifice she received thirty pounds a-year, and permission to cry herself to sleep every night, in misty wonderment why so sad a creature as she was, should ever have been born into the world. Besides this uncomfortable trio, who composed the cargo of a brougham, and were rather a tight fit, there remained Mr. Crane and Alice, who, it seemed, were waiting for the phaeton, which had not yet made its appearance. “Upon my word, Miss Hazlehurst,” began the sour friend, addressing the acidulated aunt, “this is very provoking, ma’am; it’s six o’clock, and it’s growing cold, and it will be quite dusk before we get home; and I really believe Miss Cornetoe was right this morning, and that we shall have a wet night after all.” “Shall I run down to the inn and see what causes the delay? I must go there to get my horse,” inquired Coverdale, good naturedly. “If you would be so kind, we really should be extremely obliged to you,” returned Miss Hazlehurst senior, with her most gracious and least hippopotamic smile; and thus urged, Coverdale hurried off. In the meantime poor Alice, who by no means admired the position of affairs, and had moreover been considerably alarmed in the morning by Mr. Crane’s unskilful driving, whispered a pathetic appeal to her aunt to be allowed to accompany the brougham party,--“she could sit on the box, Wilson, the coachman, was so inconceivably respectable, and she was almost sure it would not rain;”--but her aunt was a strong-minded woman, and a warm advocate of the Crane alliance, and she would not hear of such a change of plan. As soon as Coverdale arrived within sight of the inn, he perceived the missing phaeton standing in front of the doorway, the horses ready harnessed, and the groom seated on the driving-seat; accordingly he made signs to him to come on, of which, for some unaccountable reason, the man took not the slightest notice. Surprised at this, Harry made the best of his way to the spot, and on reaching it discovered, from the swollen, heated look of the fellow’s features, and the stupid, obstinate expression which characterized them, that he had been drinking to excess.